#young Daniel I see how bad you wanted teeth in your neck

[devils-your-minion]

Luke Brandon Field did NOT put his all into playing young Daniel as the most horny, desperate, pathetic, limp wristed, whimpering bisexual loser who looked up at that vampire with the wettest most submissive eyes and melted into him as he accepted the loving embrace of death just for people to say that Daniel Molloy is some kind of dom top.

Don’t worry Mr. Brandon Field, I saw your masochistic vision.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Remembrance-Chapter 4

The next chapter of my Daniel/Armand fic. Read it below or here

Daniel sleeps nearly ten hours after he goes to bed. He's not as young as he used to be, and the jet lag is a bitch. But if his memories are correct, he should have no trouble adjusting to a nocturnal sleep schedule. At least for the few days it takes to complete the interview. He hasn't thought past that. He can't. He needs to figure out why he's here first.

It's something he tries to mull over before falling asleep, but sleep takes him quickly. When he sleeps, he dreams. Flashes of memories that meld into fantasy. Armand's fangs in his neck, his blood in his mouth. Armand's hand pressed in his hair, holding Daniel's mouth to his throat. Armand's teeth buried into his femoral artery.

He wakes with an erection, like some horny teenager. He refuses to do anything about it from spite. He's not about to touch himself thinking about someone who probably erased his memories. Especially when that person can read minds. Instead he takes a cold shower and does some work. He gets caught up in it for a long while. Eventually he gets bored and starts snooping.

Daniel finds himself in the dining room looking at the paintings. One catches his eye, of Christ surrounded by small imp-like demons. It's not bad, but he doesn't recognize it.

“It's Venetian,” a voice says. A voice Daniel would recognize anywhere. He turns and sees Armand, dressed all in black, wearing those same leather gloves and brown contacts. He's carrying around that Ipad. He looks good. Daniel hates that he notices, that Armand can still affect him after all these years.

“A contemporary of Tintoretto's.”

Daniel leans closer to read the name of the artist. “Marius de Romanus. Sounds familiar.”

“Does he? Little of his work survives. Mr. de Pointe du Lac covets the rare. Not many have heard of him.”

Shit, familiar for the wrong reasons then. One of them probably showed him this painting before. Luckily, Daniel is spared having to think of something to say by a loud, creaking sound. “Do you hear that? I keep hearing that sound.”

“Well, the building sways a bit, but that is according to it's design, given the height. We call it the groan,” Armand says, suspicion seemingly gone. Daniel thinks he may have dodged a bullet. Armand opens his Ipad—and what does he do on that thing anyway? Daniel wouldn't be surprised if he had cameras installed that he used to spy. Probably a good thing he didn't have that morning wank.

“It won't disturb your meal, which is ready now.”

Daniel can't help but poke a little. He wants to see how far this charade goes. “Did you always work for him?”

“Please have a seat.” Armand is dismissive, turning to leave.

“I mean, is it only work or are you an he...?” Armand has to give something away at that. Louis is one of the great loves of his life. He'd once told Daniel that he was the other. Daniel had been naive enough to believe him.

“I serve a god. It is my honor to serve.” Armand sounds testy. Daniel wonders if maybe his presence isn't having an effect after all. Armand rarely loses his calm front.

A risk-taker at heart, Daniel replies “Kinky.”

There's the very slightest twitch at the corner of Armand's mouth. Trying not to smile. Well, at least Daniel knows he still amuses him.

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac will join you at course seven,” Armand says, walking away.

“Seven, wait, how many courses are there?” Daniel says, but Armand ignores him. “Fattening me up for the inevitable end?”

Armand is gone.

As servants in masks come in carrying food and drink, Daniel is struck by another memory. It's years ago, back in the days when Armand was still playing that he would kill Daniel. Daniel arrives at the Copley to find Armand sitting in the dinning room. Daniel is led to his table.

“Daniel, please sit down. I've already ordered your dinner,” Armand says, the picture of politeness, save the vicious smile.

Daniel sits and plate after plate is brought and spread over the table. People are staring. “You know, I'm not really hungry. Wanna get out of here?”

Armand leans across the table like he's confiding a secret. “I didn't know what you would like, so I ordered everything on the menu.”

Daniel blushes beat red. Armand's smile becomes giddy. He's enjoying this, the bastard.

“You think you can drive me crazy, don't you?” Daniel snaps, suddenly furious. “Chasing me around the globe. Well, it won't work. Every time I see you, you annoy me back to sanity.”

He jabs his fork at the closest dish and tears into it savagely. He eats some from every plate, a little of this, a little of that. What does it matter what he eats? He's Hansel in the witch's hut being fed candy.

Armand leans back and crosses his arms across his chest, laughing and laughing. It's the first time Daniel has heard him laugh, and it's silky, seductive. He tries not to think about it, not to let his eyes linger on Armand's smile. He's not crazy enough to be attracted to a man who wants to kill him. Still, he drinks his wine as quickly as possible, hoping to get drunk fast.

Daniel puts the memory out of his mind. He's more interested in the servants putting down cling wrap on the other side of the table. He wonders what that's about, but doesn't ask. Figures he wouldn't get an answer. He sits through course after course, watching the staff come in and prepare Louis's side of the table. There's a box with a blood bag brought out and prepared for Louis, who arrives after six boring courses.

“There he is,” Daniel says as Louis steps in. Something seems off about him. “You missed at least three or four endangered species.”

“I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. I can assure you, it will not happen again.”

Daniel wonders if he's talking about when he called him disrespectful and not worthy of his story, or the tear. He's not going to ask. “Memory is a monster. We forget, it doesn't.”

He sets up his tape recorder as Louis sits. Asks for the music to be turned down. It's great for atmosphere, but terrible for recording. The servant brings out a fresh plate of food. It's hard not to think of the staff as servants, when Louis is this absurdly wealthy. This is super hero billionaire wealthy. If he gets any richer, he'll need an arch nemesis. Daniel isn't really listening while he describes the food.”

“...and AB negative fresh from the farm. Bon appetit.”

That bit catches Daniel's attention. “Part of me wants to ask about the farm-”

Louis cuts him off, “Two vampires walk into a church. That's where we left off.”

Well, Daniel can ask about the farm later. If Louis wants to get down to it, he wants to hear. “Blissing out post priesticide.”

Louis begins his recollection, tells of the pain of the transformation, of Lestat's blood giggling inside him. He describes feeling as though he spent his life as a dead man and could now receive the secrets of existence. It...sounds familiar.

“You were fucking loaded.” Daniel says. He's been high enough to recognize being high when it's described to him.

“Beyond articulation.”

He talks about Lestat taking him hunting, how he was a baby bird desperate to feed, but not ready to hunt. Daniel wonders if that's what he would have been, had Armand gave in and turned him. But of course, Armand had never even entertained the idea. Naturally, Louis refused if Armand refused. Daniel had always knew he would, but he had tried it once, during those early days of him and Armand being together...

/

Technically, the apartment belongs to Daniel as his name is on the lease, but Armand pays for everything. Or Louis and he pay for it together. Daniel doesn't know. If Louis or Armand were a woman, he'd say they were married. But men can't marry men. They both get confused when he tries to apply human terms to their relationship anyway.

It's all very new, this thing. Louis has only came around a few times. But he's here now in Armand and Daniel's apartment. Of course, he has his own place with Armand. They are basically married. And it does cause Daniel some anxiety, from time to time. Armand's known Louis longer, he has to love him more. What if he gets tired of Daniel? What if Louis gets tired of Armand being with Daniel?

Daniel won't be with them forever. He's only mortal. Why settle for a human when there's a vampire waiting at home? As much as he's adrift in a sea of jealousy, he does like knowing there will be someone to love Armand after he's gone. Someone to love Louis too. He thinks that's why Armand left them alone together tonight, to bond. Armand is out hunting, while Louis had drank deeply from Daniel to not need to.

Daniel should have been more hesitant, after the first time, but he was all for the idea. Louis has been skipping meals lately. And Armand was there to supervise.

He had watched the whole exchange rapturously. It only made it more erotic, and Daniel had begged, begged Armand to come over and touch him. But Armand had told him to wait until after he came back, had kissed him and whispered into his ear all the dirty things he would do upon his return.

That was thirty minutes ago and Daniel is getting antsy. He supposes he could take the edge off with Louis, but he doesn't know if that's allowed. Armand hasn't exactly discussed the rules. What are he and Louis, anyway? It feels like a conversation they should have at some point.

But that's not the conversation he wants to have with Louis.

“Hey,” he says, nudging Louis with his foot. Louis in on the other end of the couch reading. Reading Les Miserables, which he's already read before, so Daniel doesn't feel bad interrupting. Louis glances over at him and smiles, like he's just remembered he's there. He tends to get in his head, sometimes.

“Yes, Daniel?” He sticks his bookmark in the book and closes it. His tone is all indulgence. It sort of makes Daniel's heart flutter.

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” he asks and crowds closer to him for good measure. Fuck it, why not be brave? He swings a leg over Louis lap so he straddling him. Louis's hands come to his waist. Daniel hopes this is okay. (He'll realize later, Armand probably got him all worked up and left them alone so something would happen. But, of course, Daniel has to ruin it.)

“What would you—hypothetically—think of me as a vampire?”

Louis frowns. “We're not doing this.”

“So if I asked you-”

Louis moves him off his lap and sits him down. He's angry now. Shit. “You think I'd go behind his back and do that?”

No, but Daniel had to ask. Had to try. “You don't get it! You get to have him forever, and I have what? A few years, until he gets sick of me?”

Daniel slides off the couch, stomach twisted in knots. He buries hands in his hair and paces the room. “I wanna be with him forever. Why doesn't he want that too?”

Louis sighs, anger seeming to ebb out of him with it. “Daniel-”

“Forget it, man,” says Daniel. “I get it. You're forever; I'm temporary.”

He storms off before Louis can respond and doesn't return until hours later. When he does, Louis is gone and Armand and he have an awful fight. It ends in Daniel crying and Armand leaving. When he returns the next night, Daniel forgets about the fight, so happy to have him back. The next week, Louis joins them and things are back normal.

Daniel never broaches the subject with Louis again.

/

Louis tells Daniel all about his first kill, going out into the sun and burning, Lesat and the coffin.

“Helluva bender,” Daniel says. The more he hears about this Lestat, the less he likes him. He's almost entirely sure if Louis or Armand turned someone, they'd show more care.

“He rushed me headlong through the encounter as if it were something to put behind us,” Louis says. “Death, rebirth, coming out, homicide, too many firsts for one night.”

Louis deserved better than that. It's Daniel's first thought. It's the next he says aloud. “Coming out? You robbed a daughter of her father, maybe a pet pony. How's sexuality play in that?”

“It's a complicated question, Daniel, and we shouldn't conflate it with the salesman's death.”

“Humor me,” Daniel says. If it's heading where he thinks it is, Louis may be more fucked up in regards to his sexuality than Daniel ever was.

“To satisfy your fixation, being transformed by Lestat, being desired by him, bedding down with him, was an overture of sorts to that side of my nature.”

“To the shame of queer theorists everywhere,” says Daniel. Louis is indeed fucked up. He was rushed into coming out before he was ready. Daniel wonders if vampires have psychologists. Surely one of them had the clever idea to turn a shrink or two, just to keep up their mental health.

“I got in that coffin of my own free will. In the quiet dark, we were equals.”

Daniel grabs the mic and speaks into it sarcastically, “White master, black student, but equal in quiet dark.”

Jesus, did Louis not know how he sounded?

“Provocation,” says Louis, and he's not happy. “Is this the primary tool one walks away with after downloading your Internet class?”

Okay, so the Internet class is a little hackneyed.

The staff come in and deliver more food. Food for Daniel. Louis gets a fucking fox. It sounds distressed. Poor fucker. Daniel feels sorry for it. But it's only Louis trying to provoke him, and Daniel's not going to let him. He's a goddamn professional.

“Back to the salesman for a sec,” Daniel says. “Clearly, you were haunted by it, the taste of his blood in the back of your throat, up in your gums.”

What is he doing? He's too old to be playing this game with Louis. But Louis knows him. He asked for him for a reason. He knows Daniel won't stop until he gets the truth, no matter how many buttons he has to press.

“Let me ask you, Daniel, do you contemplate the life of the rabbit before you cut it? Or do you simply cut?” Louis is stroking the fox as he speaks, almost as though petting it. Then he bites into it and blood spurts out. He looks at Daniel with intensity as he drinks, pulling back with a bloody mouth.

It'd be more effective if Daniel didn't know it was all theatrics. Hell, he's wasting more of that blood than he's drinking.

“Vampires are killers, apex predators whose all-seeing eyes were meant to give them detachment, the ability to see human life in its entirety, not with any mawkish sorrow, but with the thrilling satisfaction of being the end of that life and having a hand in the divine plan.”

“Don't expect every reader to swallow that one.” Daniel says.

Where does he begin to poke holes into Louis words? Do you contemplate the life of the rabbit? No, but he's never been a fucking rabbit, has he? There's a clear difference. And mawkish sorrow? What was mawkish about feeling remorse for ending a human life? Daniel's own human life had once been quite valuable to Louis. That's not even getting into the mention of the divine plan, because Daniel isn't touching Louis's Catholic guilt with a ten foot pole.

“That's the purpose,” says Louis. “Our book must be a warning as much as anything.”

And why do people need a warning? Why now? What exactly has Louis worried?

Louis wipes his mouth, but it's still a bloody mess. Then, like a flip has been switched, Louis continues “It was the right line of questioning. I was haunted by the salesman, and as a fledgling vampire, I did not readily take to killing.”

Louis keeps talking, about his want to retain some measure of humanity, of not wanting to separate his life. Of his mother and Grace. And then he gets to the part with the man who dared call him an 'exceptional Negro.' His voice becomes elevated, containing actual emotion.

“I had powers now and decades of rage to process, and it was both random and unfortunate, the man picked that night to dabble in fuckery. If not him, it would have been the next man.”

It's a nice line. Readers will like that a lot better than the other bullshit. No one liked racists except racists.

Louis continues his tale and Daniel lets him, scribbling notes furiously. Until he gets to the baby.

“I no longer kill,” Louis says. “My last victim was in the year 2000.”

“Some Y2K disagreement?” Daniel snarks. Who gives a shit about that? He wants to know about the baby.

“I want our readers to understand that.”

“Okay,” Daniel says, “Did you eat the baby?”

“I sit here a master of my instincts.”

“Mm-hmm,” Daniel doesn't bother the try to sound like he believes him. He remembers that first night they met, the pain of Louis's fangs in his neck, the sureness he was going to die. “And what about the others out there? Have they mastered theirs?”

“Just the opposite,” says Louis. “Most of them are slaves to the blood, exhausted from decades, centuries of hiding, giddy to increase their numbers.”

There's that superiority complex Daniel remembers.

Daniel ignores the staff coming in and pouring Louis more blood, setting up a chair beside him. He has more important things on his mind. “Two questions—did you eat the baby? And is the pandemic the opening they've been waiting for?”

“Pandemic, the unraveling of geopolitical foundations.”

“And you know this how? You guys have a thread on 8chan?” Daniel says. Louis and Armand had always been so careful to keep information of other vampires away from Daniel. Too afraid he'd seek them out to try to have them turn him and end up dead. Daniel's glad for it now; it's something he would have done back then.

“I hear them,” says Louis. “Our thoughts can travel thousands of miles to one another. I can stand out on my balcony, close my eyes, and they're plotting speeds to me.”

“Why?” Daniel can't help the question that slips out. Why would they want to come for Louis? Armand makes sense, Daniel can recall him mentioning once that he killed fledgling vampires. That would have to piss off a few vampires, especially those that turned them. But Louis? What was his crime?

Louis doesn't answer the question. “One of them, a brute in Madagascar, calls it 'the great conversion'.”

“The great conversion?” says Daniel. A few decades ago he would have been all for it. “Well, good luck with that, because most people I know like to play a little ball in the afternoon, or maybe go down to the beach, catch a few rays.”

“Yes. What on earth would a meth-addicted son of a coal miner in West Virginia want with eternal life?”

A solid unit of a man comes and sits beside Louis. Daniel has a sneaking suspicion what he's there for. He needs to work faster; there's no way he'll be able to keep a clear head watching Louis feed from some guy. Just the thought brings up memories he has to trample down. “Did you eat the baby?”

“Or the Arab youth whose family was wiped from existence...”

“Did you eat the baby?”

“...by a Western drone.” Louis continues like he hasn't spoken. He turns to the man next to him. “Hello, Damek.”

“Hey,” says Damek, and it sounds familiar. Louis has most certainly done this with him before.

Daniel doesn't want to look, but he can't tear his eyes away as Louis bites into Damek's neck. It makes him think back to years ago, of the times Louis had drank from him. One moment in particular stands out...

/

Louis has been in one of his moods, so he's staying with Daniel and Armand. Daniel had suggested it when Armand told him he'd have to leave for awhile. He thought the change of scenery could be good for Louis.

He's been right so far. Louis's mood has improved in the week since he's been here. It's improved enough to lead them here, in the bedroom. Daniel is spread across blood red silk sheets, Louis slotted between his thighs and fucking him lazily. Armand is just out of reach in a black velvet winged back chair, watching them intensely. Daniel is watching him watch them and everything feels soft and hazy.

He's a little high, but it's only from some weed he smoked earlier to help get the creative juices flowing. Instead it made him horny as hell and he had declared if one of them didn't fuck him, he would die. So he finds himself here, stuffed full of Louis' cock with Armand's eyes burning into him.

Daniel moans and digs a heel into the back of Louis' thigh. The thing about vampires is they have stamina for miles, and didn't mind taking their damn time. Armand has been known to fuck him through one orgasm and right into another before he finishes himself. Louis usually isn't so cruel—he'll give Daniel what he wants, if Daniel asks nice enough.

Desperately, he reaches out to Armand, but Armand is just out of reach. Daniel wants him. Wants both of them at once, both inside him, stretching him and filling him up. They've not done that yet. Louis is always so careful of him, he'd never agree to it. Armand doesn't mind getting a little rough with him; he can see inside Daniel's head to know exactly when enough is enough.

Daniel whines and Armand chuckles. Daniel knows Armand is telepathically telling Louis what to do to him—this show is for him, after all. “Come on, baby. Please.”

He isn't even sure who he's asking at this point.

Louis's mouth trails along his clavicle, over his shoulder, up to his neck. He mouths there, kissing and and sucking. Daniel grips unto his shoulder and tosses his head back in offering. Armand is sitting cross-legged, only his dilated pupils indicating he's affected by what he sees.

“Bite him,” he orders Louis simply.

Louis does so at once and Daniel digs nails into his back, whole body jerking in pleasure. It's good, it's so good. He's on fire and burning in ecstasy. Louis drinks from him in long pulls and it sends jolts down his body. Usually they only take a little, not enough to affect Daniel's health. And doesn't Louis normally stop by now? Daniel doesn't care; he feels like he's floating. He's dizzy and drowsy and his vision is beginning to go spotty.

Dimly, he can hear Armand speaking. “Enough, Louis.”

Louis doesn't stop though, and Daniel's eyelids feel so heavy, too heavy to lift. He'll just rest them a second.

When he opens his eyes, Louis and Armand are outside of the bedroom door and he is on his back in the bed with the covers drawn around him. Armand looks furious, angrier than Daniel has ever seen him. And he's never seen that anger directed at Louis. Daniel can barely hear their low whispers.

“He fainted,” Armand says, soft but incensed. “If you'd been feeding properly, you wouldn't have lost control.”

Louis looks aghast and guilty. “I stopped when he passed out. I'd never hurt him, you know that.”

He sounds more like he's trying to convince himself.

Daniel doesn't like it. He doesn't want them fighting, and he's fine, really. “Hey,” he calls out and both turn to look at him. “It's my fault. Forgot to eat. Got caught up in working.”

Louis takes a step forward. “Daniel, I'm sor-”

He doesn't get to finish his apology before Armand has stepped into the room and closed the door in his face. He's practically radiating fury. Daniel figures the space is probably as much for Louis' benefit. Armand can be vicious when he's angry; he wouldn't want to turn that anger on Louis.

Then, Daniel is in Armand's arms on the bed with gentle fingers running through his hair. He still feels so sleepy. He snuggles into Armand and closes his eyes. “Don't be mad. 'M okay,” he slurs, before falling into sleep.

Louis doesn't drink from him for a long time after that.

/

Damek doesn't seem to enjoy it the same way Daniel did. He tries to start a conversation, for one, something Daniel normally didn't have the coherency to do. Unfortunately, he speaks in Russian.

Louis pops off with a wet squelch. “He's American, Damek.”

“You like Dubai?” Damek asks as Louis returns to his neck. The way Louis is slurping away over there, Damek is going to need a juice box, like they give out after you donate blood.

Daniel is too caught up in it to respond immediately. “I, ah, I haven't had the time to sight-see.”

This whole display is probably meant to make him uneasy. It makes him uncomfortable, but not in the way he imagines Louis intended. He's glad for age and the steady supply of alcohol keeping his arousal from showing.

“Go to Kite Beach,” Damek says. “It's good. Kites.”

Louis pulls away and pats Damek on the shoulder. “Thank you, Damek. See you soon.”

Damek stands and sways.

“As I was saying, I no longer kill.”

“You might have a drinking problem,” Daniel says, watching as Damek steps forward and reaches for the wall. He breathes heavily and looks ready to faint.

“Rashid!” Louis calls. Damek hits the floor with a grunt.

Daniel glances over long enough to see his chest still rising and falling. He'll be fine. Back to more important matters. “The baby.”

Louis says he didn't eat the baby. Daniel isn't sure he believes him.

Louis goes on to talk about Lestat, how Lestat likes it when he fought back, how there was a kind of worship on Louis' part. And doesn't Daniel understand that? Had he not seen Armand as some sort of wicked god in those early days? A god or a devil or both. And hadn't Armand first loved him because he fought back? How they had fought in those early days, before he'd admitted his feelings.

He goes on about those early years, his distaste for the hunt, the kill. The death of an opera singer whose mind he read as he died. How Lestat had a way about him, how he was under his power.

“Lestat was wrong. I was never going to be a natural. I was never going to savor the aftertaste,” Louis says as dessert is brought out. “I was a shame-ridden second, a fumbling, despondent killer, a botched vampire.”

It reminds Daniel of the old days. Louis would fall into these self-loathing moods. Back then, Daniel had never truly understood it. Being a vampire was akin to being a god. Why should Louis suffer so? He lacked the maturity to understand. Had believed once you became a monster, surely things like human guilt would disappear. But Louis always had the bit of humanity clinging to him, didn't he?

“I try to have a human dish once a week to maintain the thread,” Louis explains, as the food is placed before him. That's new; Daniel can't recall Louis ever doing it in the past. Sometimes, he or Armand would have Daniel feast on a certain food for days before they feed from him. That's as close as he remembers them getting.

“There was an offhand remark in your memoir about this dessert. I hope you don't mind.”

Daniel recognizes the desert. He'd had it with Alice, yes, but it wasn't the first time. That had been with Armand. Maybe some subconscious part of him had tried to recreate the moment with her. Though his memories of her are nothing compared to what he remembers of Armand.

He loved her though, he's sure of it. He just loved Armand more.

“What's this taste like to you?” Daniel asks, curious and needing to keep his thoughts in line.

“Like almost all human food—like paste, like chalk, like soap.”

“This is the dessert I had after I proposed to my first wife, after I got my shit together.” Daniel confides. After his memories of his time with Armand disappear. Would he have loved Alice, if he remembered Armand? “We were in Paris. Little cafe on the Rue Servandoni, up the way from Saint-Sulpice.”

“I know it. It's a beautiful street.”

Of course he knows it. Daniel vaguely remembers Armand mentioning something about riding around with Louis on a Vespa on that street, in the early days of their courtship. They had walked together along the street, Armand warm from a fresh kill and Daniel beside him, arms brushing. They had talked and talked, and Armand had taken him to the cafe to eat. Daniel had a habit of forgetting to eat in those days. Armand had ordered him this very dessert.

“Alice—half of her eyebrow was blonde, like a mutt. She always dyed it back to brown,” Daniel says, but he thinks of Armand. Of how he would wear those brown contacts when they went out in public to blend in. How Daniel had preferred when he didn't bother. “I liked it when she left it alone.”

Daniel suddenly aches acutely for the past.

He closes the laptop. That's enough reminiscing for one day.

[wastefulreverie]

Damon wasn't used to working at Town Hall It was a different environment from the quiet halls of Axion Labs, bustling with local board members and other administration. But Mayor Masters had offered a great sum of money for him to leave his position at Axion and come to work in his private security detail at Town Hall. He thought Valerie might have had something to do with it, but when he told her about the promotion she'd clammed up—just surprised as he'd been.

He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. It seemed that he was beginning to bounce back from his demotion.

Damon was posted outside of Mayor Masters' office. He had a straight shot view of foot-traffic through the building and had the mayor's schedule memorized to the minute. That's when he heard a second voice in the office behind him, it was strange. Mayor Masters was supposed to be alone and no one had made it past Damon. No one was scheduled to be meeting with the mayor now and that was far too loud to be from a phone or computer.

"—pleasure to see you, little badger. Now, what is it this time?"

"You could have warned me." The other voice, a familiar young man Damon couldn't place, said. "How do I stop this? I can't show my face to anyone! Not my parents, not anyone at school. I'm done for."

Despite the young man's urgent tone, the mayor laughed. "Please, Daniel. You're being melodramatic. After all, what's a few extra teeth?"

"Don't you fucking dare."

"I thought you wanted my help? Or did you come here to gripe?"

"You don't get to tell me I'm being dramatic. You know a way to hide this. Just tell me."

"What's in it for me?"

"Me not using these stupid new teeth on your neck."

"Oh, I'm just shaking in my boots!" His voice was nothing short of facetious. "That'll get me, for sure."

"I'm not kidding around, Plasmius. Tell me how to hide this. I don't have time to waste here."

"Mm, yes. But as you can see, I also don't have the time to waste. You've caught me at a bad time at my job." The mayor rustled some papers. "I have to earn a living like everyone else, you know."

"All your money is stolen!"

Damon almost choked.

"You see, it's those sort of accusations that get you in trouble, Daniel." He paused. "Maybe if you were a little wiser with your words, I'd be able to help you with that little problem of yours. A shame."

Something fell and there was a sudden THUMP.

"I haven't gotten my wisdom teeth yet. But then again, I wasn't aware I had to worry about this set first. So I'll ask one more time before I blast it out of you." His voice was slow and articulated. "How do I hide this?"

Damon didn't like the sound of that.

He turned around and threw open the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Danny Fenton—son of the town's ghost hunters and Valerie's friend from school—had the mayor pressed against the wall in a choke-hold. Mayor Masters didn't seem any bit worried about it, and seemed rather amused until he spotted Damon. Danny was wearing a blue sweater and was noticeably a good two feet shorter than the mayor. Physically, it should be impossible for someone of his size to get the upper-hand on a man like Mayor Masters, yet he maintained his hold on him even as he turned to see who was at the door.

When Danny's striking blue eyes met Damon's own, he dropped Mayor Masters. The Mayor steadied himself well, feet landing even on the floor.

"Mr. Gray." Danny was a shade paler than he had a moment ago and when he spoke two prominent canines jutted out from his upper lip. "I swear it isn't what it looks like."

Mayor Masters clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder with a smile.

"Ah, Damon! I was just teaching Daniel here some self-defense." Here, Danny recoiled from the mayor's touch like he'd been burned. "With that bumbling father of his, heaven knows he needs it."

"What did you just say," Danny growled.

The mayor's smile widened. "Your services won't be needed for the rest of the day, I'm afraid. You can go ahead on home."

"But," he did the math in his head, "there's still three more hours left on my shift."

"You'll still be compensated for the full time," Mayor Masters assured. "Enjoy the afternoon. And please do shut the door on your way out. Daniel and I need some time alone."

Damon didn't like the way he said that at all.

But, this was his boss.

And if Danny Fenton had shown anything, it was that he could handle his own.

(That didn't make it not weird.)

If Damon turned his two weeks notice in at the end of the week, it had nothing to do with the conversation he'd interrupted at all. After all, he did prefer the quiet halls of Axion Labs.

[hoaqins-funk-house]

Hoaqin/White

Yandere

Part 3

Walking through the halls, the other Hoaqin stays at your side. It seemed he had also gotten attached. “Y/N. I’m hungry.”

“You’re very similar to the other you. As for food, I’d ask the two behind us.”

He nods, looking over his shoulder. “Hey… I’m a bit hungry. Do either of you have something to eat?”

They freeze. “Wh-what do you mean by that...?”

“Like snacks.”

Yihwa pauses to look through her bag as Wangnan breathes a sigh of relief. “We have some snacks here.” 

She hands him banana chips, you raising an eyebrow. 

“Banana-shaped chips? Aren’t those for children?”

“Try them.” She urges, him shrugging and doing so.

“Oh, not bad. Thank you.” Holding the bag, he continues on down the hall, looking back at you in order to spur you into movement once more.

Loud rumbling fills the hall as you walk along, the Hoaqin at your side looking in the direction of its origin. “It’s not another me. Let’s go check it out.”

You crack your neck, looking in the same direction as him. “Sure.”

Wangnan and Yihwa look at each other, worried, soon running to catch up to you and Hoaqin.

-

“It isn’t the smartest decision to have such a loud fight on this dangerous train, is it?”

You look around at the group, seeing the angel lady and dog guy near two women and a small crocodilian. 

“Mr. Crocodile!” Yihwa shouts. “Where’s Bam?!”

Hoaqin turns. “You’re their acquaintances?”

The dog guy turns to face your new group and Wangnan stutters out an answer. 

“Is it possible that you’re another Hoaqin, sir?” He asks, the boy at your side confirming it. 

“If you both know who I am, you must know the other me. Why are you fighting?”

Your eyes met with the crocodilian, him tilting his head at you. You both look away at the same time, seeing as a gargantuan sword made of white energy floated above Hoaqin. Your eyebrows raise, impressed. “Woah.”

“The ones who fed me are who I will side with. This situation may be unknown to me, but if you’re an enemy of theirs, I will not hesitate to slice you with this.” He threatens, the angel lady stammering as the blade gets pointed her way. “So, tell me. Are you an enemy? Or an ally?”

Before she can answer, the familiar voice of Hoaqin breaks the tense silence. 

“Vicente!” He shouts, eyes widening before shifting into a glare at the sight of you next to him. “So, you’re the second one. It’s been a while! The first time seeing each other since we were one.” His grin was unnerving, not matching the anger that filled his eyes. “We need to become one.”

Vicente hums. “Right now?”

“Yes, a new Slayer Nominee has appeared, and everything has fallen apart. His name is Jue Viole Grace. We have to compete for the title of Slayer Nominee! Now, let’s become one, so we can defeat that bastard!” 

Looking at the ground, Vicente stays quiet for a moment. “Okay. But if we do… who’s going to vanish?”

Hoaqin hesitates. “H-huh? What do you mean by that? We’re one, but many! It’s not like one lives and the other disappears! All we want is to be the perfect sword!”

“No.” Vicente states. “It’s only been you. You were the one living as a perfect sword. More than one soul cannot be awake in one body, so the others were asleep.” 

Hoaqin’s lips twitch into a snarl, eyes glancing over to you, who was now next to the crocodile. By the time he was looking back to Vicente, he had continued to speak. “After we split, and got sealed in that unstable condition, I realized. I wasn’t awake for all of the years you climbed. It was only you, claiming the throne, and using our powers.”

Hoaqin grits his teeth. 

“It’s my turn now, Hoaqin. I’ll be the next slayer, and I’ll cut off our father’s head, and make him look back at me.”

“So, if you want to be awake, do you plan on eating me or something?!” Hoaqin laughs, jumping into the air. “Cut the crap!”

“Daniel, take out the small fry!” He orders, Daniel readying his abilities as the crocodile by your side rushes forward, meeting him in the middle.

A large explosion rings out in the center, Hoaqin and Vicente having struck each other’s blades.

Hoaqin begins to shout at the other boy, you watching passively as Wangnan rushes forward with the knife he had threatened you with, striking Vicente through the heart. He vanishes right after, Hoaqin’s eyes wide. “He vanished? What the hell did you do, blondie?!”

“Yihwa, burn ‘em all!” He shouts, charging away as the flames explode. He was followed by the others, you slightly disappointed by not being able to get the crocodile’s name. He seemed interesting.

Hoaqin cuts through the flame, bolting forwards before getting stopped as the path shifts, obscuring the retreating group from view. 

“Damn it! I was so close!” Hoaqin shouts, slashing at the new wall and scarring it. Walking over, you place a hand on his shoulder, him looking back (and up) at you. “Y/N...“ 

He sighs angrily. “Well, at least I got you back. Still, I was so damn close! That yellow guy just took him and ran!” He grumbles, grabbing your hand as he steps away and striding forward, you following without resistance. He turns down a hall, trailed by the normal group of evil-doers that followed him. “At this rate, how can I become one?!”

“Calm down, Hoaqin. Let’s go to the test, we need to get to the next floor anyway.” Daniel suggests.

He clicks his tongue, continuing down the hall.

-

"Wait, Rachel." Her head perks up as Hoaqin speaks, him still holding your hand. "Do you happen to know where the other copies are?"

You glance back at the blonde woman, her nodding. "A-ah, Emily knows where they were sealed, but they all seem to have gotten out…" 

He huffs. “So, locating them exactly is out of the question, huh?”

She nods again. “Unfortunately, it seems so…”

“Then who let them out…?” He mumbles, head lifting as a young girl’s voice calls his name. “What?”

You turn before he does, releasing his hand in order to approach her, tilting your head as you crouch down in front of her. You glance over your shoulder as Hoaqin jogs over, soon facing the girl again. 

“Anna?! Is that you?” Hoaqin asks, her slowly nodding as she looks at him, soon refocusing on you.

“Who are you?” 

“Me? Well… I’m Y/N.” You answer, mindlessly scratching your head as you stand up once more, looking down as Anna grabs the edge of your sleeve, her other arm still wrapped around her rabbit plushie. 

Hmm… every Hoaqin piece seems to like you. You’re like a Hoaqin whisperer.

Hoaqin grabs your hand once more, pulling you and Anna along.

-

“Why does she get to ride on your back?” Hoaqin pouts, you sending him an amused glance. 

“She asked.” 

Anna was on your back as you continued your trek, sound asleep while you carried her bunny for her. Looking around the group, you noticed the missing man, saying nothing. 

“Any idea of how close we are to the match?” You ask, Rachel answering. 

“About a week away. We still have a bit of traveling to do, so we’ll probably make it just in time.”

You hum. “That’s good to hear.” 

Hoaqin glances up at your peaceful face, wondering. You seemed more expressive since getting out of that room. It was still rather rare for you to show emotion, but you seemed less lifeless and more just unemotional. It wasn’t as worrisome to see your expression never move, as the face it never moved from was warmer. 

That was another thing he noticed… 

You were a rather warm person. 

When describing how you were in your past, you portrayed yourself as a workaholic who was cold and uncaring, but this present view of you seemed to be diverging from that path. Now, even if only through your eyes, you showed something. Before, you had slept so much it felt like he never got to see your eyes, but now you were awake. You were doing something, you were tagging along with him, you were helping one of his pieces. Quite frankly, he couldn’t wait to become whole once again, because as he had told you countless times, you would be his.

He wants your smile, your frown, your expressions, your emotion. He wants to see it all, He wants to have it all. 

He wants you.

Every bit of you.

He just needs to become one.

-

Approaching a sudden drop to an arena with Anna still practically attached to your hip, Hoaqin was… also practically attached to your hip. He wasn’t holding your hand, though. 

“It seems like Jue Viole Grace has yet to show himself.” Hoaqin states. “Let’s hope he doesn’t chicken out.”

You yawn, rubbing your neck with your free hand as you observe the large arena

“Did that bastard really run?”

“Hah! As if Viole would be afraid of a kid like you. Watch what you say.” Wangnan calls, from another entrance. “Even if it’s not Viole, we’ll beat you!”

Hoaqin gawks at the other team. “Vicente! Seriously?! You teamed up with those weaklings?! How far are you willing to go to beat me?!”

Your eyes fall to the girl at your side, who seems slightly conflicted as she stares at another one of her brothers.

Suddenly, you look up, feeling a surge in Shinsu a moment before it strikes down onto the center platform like lightning. A small group of people appears, including that red guide you had met a bit ago before Hoaqin dragged you away from her. 

“That’s Viole…” Hoaqin mumbles… a frown on his face. 

“Is Viole the black-haired one?” You ask, Hoaqin nodding. 

“Now Anna; that guy, Viole? He’s our enemy.” 

Anna finally separates from you as she follows Hoaqin’s lead in standing at the edge of the hall, looking down at them. “As always, a loud entrance, Jue Viole Grace.” He laughs. “I almost thought you were chickening out! I can respect your courage. Still, you’ll soon regret your decision to stay.”

Right as he finished, Vicente’s group began to shout at the new arrivals, filled with 'welcome back's and a shout of betrayal from the crocodile. 

Everyone went quiet as the man floating above the arena where Viole stood began to speak. He seemed to be the moderator.

"Now that the participating Regulars have gathered, we'll begin the event." He pauses for a moment, seemingly gathering his voice. "Hell Train Stage 4! The fight for the title of Slayer Nominee! A deathmatch! The test for this floor will be-" 

The screen behind him shows a golden coin, the words 'Dallar Show!' scrawled beneath in a swirly handwriting. "The Dallar Show!" He finishes.

You stare up as he continues explaining the game, uncaring to its history and relation to the 10 Great Families. In your experience, most of their kin were stuck-up and snobbish. They were the ones you gave up on approaching to form teams.

The Arie in front of you was… not prideful in his family so much as his own abilities, which, to be fair, did hold up.

"This test will have 3 rounds, with each consecutive round needing you to use the Dallars you earned in the previous! You can see this as a point-saving type of game!"

You hum, looking at Viole's group. Viole himself seemed to be the strongest of them, if his entrance meant anything, but he had a serious case of baby face that made you doubt his ability to kill. 

“Every regular will have Dallars given to them, and their teams sum will equal the opposing team's. Wangnan and Viole's groups will be merged and counted as one. The first round will take place here."

You continue to ignore him, still uncaring of the rules, only zoning back in as the Dallar on screen began to spin, glowing a bright white that blotted out your vision. Falling coins then came to your sight, and you got one marked with a 2.

"Let's begin the first round! The reward for this is 15 Dallars, and due to it being the first round, only two from each team will participate! If you have 10 Dallars, step up!"

You obviously didn't have it, but it appears Rachel and the dog guy did. You never really spoke to him enough to care about learning his name, but Rachel seemed to want to talk to you a lot. Thankfully, Hoaqin was there to be jealous and pull you away from her. 

There was just… something off about that girl.

“Let’s begin the first round! 10 Dallar Regulars, please get down to the stadium!”

As they do so, Anna steps back to pull you forward, sitting down on the edge with her legs swinging over it, you joining her. Hoaqin sits on your other side, looking over the roster for the battle. 

“We aren’t going to win this one.” You proclaim, Hoaqin raising an eyebrow. 

“What makes you say so?”

“The woman with candy; look at how she’s muttering and glaring at the dog guy. She’ll go after him, and I doubt this battle will just be as simple as catching a little fish, which Rachel doesn’t seem to realize. I can sense its Shinsu, and it's compressed. The blue guy knows what he’s doing; he’s probably the second most dangerous after Viole, just based on his intelligence. His posture is completely relaxed, confident. Even if Rachel knows that the fish isn’t just a guppy, she’ll have no chance to catch it; her lighthouses aren’t strong enough.” You explain, Hoaqin’s expression growing impressed. 

“Hmm… you make a strong point. Let’s see how this goes.”

The moment the battle begins, the candy lady launches at the dog guy, and the blue guy begins to speak to Rachel, allowing her a chance to catch the fish. You gently shake your head, laying back. “This battle was over before it even started.”

Hoaqin would admit; he was impressed. Your quick, accurate deductions weren’t something that just anyone could do. You were smart, that much was clear. 

“Hmph. Pathetic.” He watches as the suddenly enlarged fish flies up, its roar echoing as it focuses on the one who fished it out, beginning its descent in order to swallow her whole.

It was stopped by the Khun, whose lighthouses swung around it, catching it in an invisible prison. He says a few words to her collapsed form, her fists clenching against the floor.

“Khun Aguero Agnes caught the Sweetfish! The round goes to Viole Grace’s team! All participating Regulars, please return to your teams!”

After a brief pause, the participants returned to the hall, you having stood up with your Hoaqins doing the same. Hoaqin’s eyes trail after Rachel as she passes, ignoring the dog guy. “It was an interesting match. You’ve shown how pathetic you are, and it really makes me wonder… just how did you get up here? I suppose I should’ve been more careful when designating you as a useful one.” 

His vague smile grows more into a sneer, one only she could see. “Don’t even think of participating in any more matches. You won’t be anywhere near me in battle unless you want to be missing a limb.” The threat was clear. He was trying to keep her from the one person Hoaqin had been around for so long, someone whose abilities she was doing her best to gauge.

You. 

Her golden eyes meet yours for a moment, quickly looking away. Your eyebrow raises as you stare at her back, your gaze then shifting to the white boy at your side, his normal cocky grin on his lips.

Your attention is drawn back to the arena momentarily as a 20 minute break is announced, you taking the chance to lean against the wall and sit down. Your group broke off into smaller pairs, Hoaqin’s pieces gravitating in your direction. You close your eyes as Anna sits down next to you, leaning into your side. You don’t react any further as Hoaqin joins you both, laying his head in your lap.

And with that, you took a small nap, at least until the platform you were on started to move. You got the Hoaqins off of you and stood up as the floor slid away from the walls, everything beginning to shift as a cage with hostages came into view, hanging above you. Pipes filled the area, twisting and coiling around the empty space, surrounding a brightly glowing core that seemingly beat, thrumming with life.

“Welcome!” The announcer, moderator guy calls out. “This is the stage for the second round!”

You peeked over the edge, watching the core with dull fascination. It reminded you much of a human heart, its steady pulses copying the rhythm. Mesmerizing…

You lift your head as you end up in a pipe. “Huh. That was sudden.”

Looking around, you don’t see anyone near you. “Well. This blows.” 

Sighing, you begin to walk in the direction of where you sensed Hoaqin and Anna’s Shinsu. 

Then you sensed Vicente’s Shinsu.

Then you sensed another signature, similar to the other pieces of the whole. 

It was weird, to be fully honest, and you didn’t think about it too much as you flipped and spun your Dallar, continuing to walk. Staring at the ceiling as you meander forwards, you come to a stop as the pieces’ Shinsu vanishes, the hair on the back of your neck standing as a cold wave of power hits you, its center being Hoaqin. 

“Did he actually…?” You mumble, looking down the dark pipe. “I should probably pick up my pace…” Humming, you begin to run, brows furrowed. “It doesn’t seem like he’s fully one, as his power isn’t too overwhelming, but I could guess he got the three that I sensed.” You speak, organizing your thoughts. “Then where’s the last-” You come to a stop as a girl floats in front of you. 

“-one. Are you the last sibling?” You ask, her floating in a circle around you, observing. 

“I’m impressed you figured it out so quick. Yes, I am.” She smiles, moving closer to you. “I can see why Hoaqin and the others found you so interesting.”

“Really, because I can’t.” You sigh. “It’s been nice meeting you, but Hoaqin just ate his other siblings and I doubt it’ll be long ‘til he sees you. You seem strong though.”

Her smile widens. “Thank you. But I’m afraid it wouldn’t be wise to leave just yet. Hoaqin and Jue Viole Grace have just met again. It’s not safe for you.”

You stretch your neck. “If I’m confident in one thing, it’s my defense. Nothing has been able to penetrate it since the 20th floor, but if you say it’s unsafe, I suppose I’ll listen.” You sit down again, her landing in front of you and sitting on her knees. 

“This battle won’t last for very long, but I’ll bring you straight to the core afterwards.”

“Oh, good. Hoaqin probably wouldn’t be too happy if I up and disappeared again. Well, if I stayed gone.”

“Are you ever gonna call him his Slayer name?” She asks, tilting her head.

“Did he ever mention his Slayer name…? I can’t remember. I’ll probably just call him Hoaqin until he tells me to call him otherwise.”

“Do you even know it?”

“Can’t remember, so I guess no.”

“It’s White.”

“White, huh? I guess it fits him, considering his Arie heritage and freakishly pale skin.” 

She giggles, standing up. “Alright, It’s time to go.”

“Already? I guess sitting down was useless then…” You sigh, getting up. 

She dusts off her skirt, holding her hand out. “Do I just, uh…” You mumble, her rolling her eyes and grabbing your hand as your vision gets enveloped by a bright light. 

The next thing you knew, you were standing in front of a large group, with Jue Viole Grace walking in as everyone turns to face you, alarmed. “Huh. She moved me to the wrong place I guess.” 

The Khun walks up to you, lighthouses menacingly floating behind him as he stares you down. “Who are you, and what are you doing in our area?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N. I met Hoaqin’s last piece and she moved me here instead of to the other place. I’m not here to cause a fight, I never really wanted to be part of this entire thing anyway.” You drawl. “Before you ask, I was with Hoaqin because I was sealed in the same room before him, so I got to know him over the 600 years we were in there.”

Khun hums, beginning to do some digging.

“White’s last clone?” Viole asks, running up. 

“Yep. She seemed pretty powerful.”

“You are the blank turtle I saw!” The crocodile shouts. 

“And you’re the compressed dragon-lookin’ guy.” 

He huffs happily. “Dragon! That’s what they should call me! I like you, Blank Turtle!”

“Hm? Did you say something, crocodile?” Khun asks, looking up. 

“Blue Turtle, one day I will hunt you down and kill you!”

Your lips twitch up, a small smile on your face as you watch Viole try to calm down his squabbling team. Khun’s eyes widen as he finishes his searches, your face already back to its blank slate as he looks up.

“You’re known as Y/N, the Cursed.”

“Sounds about right.” You sigh, sitting down. 

“It’s believed that you made a pact with a demon in order to gain the ultimate defense, and it kills all your teammates as a sacrifice.”

“Now that’s wrong. If I had a pact with a demon that killed my teammates, Hoaqin would be dead.” You bluntly refute.

“Well now I kinda wish you did.” Khun shrugs, ignoring Rak's complaints about how cool your nickname sounded.

“This last match will be a one-on-one, so I doubt my team-killer status will be of much effect. Actually, I want to test something; Dragon, that spear of yours is a special throwing spear, right?”

Khun’s eyes stay on you. How did you figure that out?

“Well… decompress and throw it at me as hard as you can. I want to see how much my defenses have improved.”

You could sense the flow of Shinsu in that spear, with its main flow points being from the grip and from the bottom, with a more concentrated amount at the bottom as compared to normal throwing spears. 

“Yes! I will do my best to annihilate you!” He cheers, decompressing and jumping back as Khun holds Viole back from getting involved. The other group members make the wise decision to not interfere at all.

Reeling his arm back, Rak soon launches it towards you, the spear flying at you at an impressive speed. Dust kicks up around it as it flies at you, obscuring you from view as it impacts with the sound of something ripping.

It goes silent for a few seconds, only to be interrupted by your monotone voice. “Damnit. I wasn’t thinking about how it would affect my clothes.”

You sigh, stepping back into view with a top that was essentially a crop top, and a small one at that. You toss the spear back over to Rak, thanking him and ignoring everyone else’s stares as you begin to converse with the rather dumb lizard.

Your torso was littered with scars from before you became an impenetrable shield, still having done your best to block attacks from hitting any of your teammates. It didn’t matter in the end, they all died anyway, but you still tried as hard as you could to protect them, even as fate clawed their souls to the afterlife.

You knew it was useless, and that they would die, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to either betray the promise to the Lightbearer or give up on trying to defend those who joined you.

It was a pitiful existence, really.

Getting sealed was the first time that you felt as if maybe, just maybe, you had helped your team.  You really did hope they survived, and yet you couldn’t help but doubt. If they were your teammates, were they truly cursed to die early?

You didn’t know.

[builder051]

Jonestown 'verse if you're up for it.

Drugs of your choice adding up to two very high girls and whatever factor inciting a flashback appeals.

Thanks!

Not sure this is what you were going for, as it's very tame and slow moving. No big action or emeto, though both are mentioned. There is also an ED mention, and obviously mentions of drugs and alcohol.

___________________________________

"I thought this was supposed to be, you know, a date..?" Jess looks down her nose at the bottle of white pills Nat is currently crushing to powder with the handheld pill grinder. "Aren't hallucinogens more... I don't know..."

"Private?" Nat finishes, a sly smile on her face. She opens the grinder and tips the contents into the bottom of a glass, to which she quickly adds cranberry juice and a swizzle stick.

"And since when is cold medicine for grown-ups?" Jess's forehead wrinkles as Nat slides the cocktail across the table to her before she sees to making another one.

"Since it started coming in white powder." Nat laughs. "Still best to ingest, but feels a little fancier than drinking the red stuff straight."

"Ok, ok." Jess puts up her hands, then begins swirling her cocktail before the powder can form unpleasant lumps. "But, seriously. Poor man's ecstasy. For date night." Jess shakes her head. "How's this gonna work?"

"You're the one who told me to cut things off with my dealer," Nat reminds her, a little crossly.

"Yeah. But you didn't answer my question."

"See some pretty lights. Cuddle a lot. Maybe fuck around a little. Then lie back and enjoy the show." Nat grins as if all of this is obvious.

Jess shrugs. "If you say so."

Truth is, the whole thing doesn't sound all that bad. If Jess was still surly and hateful, she'd probably find the proposition not bad at all. But Nat's turned her soft a little. Whipped her flesh so what's underneath depresses under tender pressure. She might want to talk. She might want a little closeness she'll remember in the morning. But she might not want to tell Nat any of that.

"I do," Nat says, tossing crushed pills into another glass and quickly stirring in the powder.

"Ok, then." Jess throws back her beverage, focusing on the bitter cranberry and not on the chemical flavor of the squashed white tablets. They form a film on her tongue, though, and she has to use her teeth to scrape it away.

Nat's empty glass hits the table before Jess's. She's taken it as a slammer instead of a sipper, not that Jess has spent much time savoring it. Jess glances up at Nat's face to find her licking her lips and beckoning her to stand up and follow her toward the bedroom.

Jess is affronted, but she doesn't show it. It's her apartment, so she's the one who ought to be doing the inviting. Right now she's the more conservative presence, though, so maybe her inclination to take them to the sofa to watch television first would be too modest. From what she knows of the drug, Jess isn't sure how much time there is to "fuck around" before the hardcore hallucinations hit.

Once they're on either side of Jess's bed, Nat strips to her t-shirt and underwear. Jess copies her, mostly because it's uncomfortable to sleep in jeans, and putting on pajamas seems too modest in comparison.

"C'mere," Nat says, slipping under the covers and holding them open for Jess.

"Yeah..." Jess slowly wriggles in, moving quickly when she meets Nat's arms and moving into the space left for her. Nat's body is warm, and they fit together well, hips interlocking and knees passing one atop the other.

Nat presses her forehead to Jess's and kisses the end of her nose. Jess can barely keep from screwing up her eyes, for the contact is... not unwanted, exactly. Just a bit much. But at least it's not a kiss on the lips. Jess isn't convinced she won't bite. And not in the sensual way.

"We've got, oh, I don't know. Twenty minutes?" Nat brings her face into Jess's neck, placing her chin on Jess's collarbone. "What do you wanna do?"

Nat's knee finds Jess's crotch and moves back and forth a few times, but Jess uses her hand to gently stop the motion. The presence is fine. The warmth, the comfort of her girlfriend; not just a fling or a casual friend who's weaseled their way into a benefit.

"Mm," Jess muses. "Talk, I guess."

"Ok." Nat goes a little limp. "How are you?"

"Eh."

"I mean, what've you been up to?"

Jess shrugs, raising Nat's chin a little. "Work. Missions. Whiskey." Then she smiles a little. "My girl."

"You've been up your girl?" Nat giggles.

Jess wonders if the white powder is already affecting her.

"Sometimes," she answers, grinning. Then she wonders if she herself is getting emboldened by its ingestion.

Nat keeps laughing. She's gotten bony again lately, and Jess wonders if the dose is weight affected. She's starting to feel fuzzy around the edges, but Nat's bordering on hysterical.

"Chill out a little, would you?" Jess says, wrapping her arms around Nat's body and lifting her easily a couple inches away from her body.

"Whoa." Nat's eyes cross, then float back to normal.

"Twenty minutes?" Jess cocks her head. "How about... fiveish?

"Maybe I should've 'fessed up." Nat puts her hand loosely over her mouth. "I usually take the kid route and drink the red stuff. Or the not-red stuff..."

"Huh?"

"Ever heard of robocough?"

"For fuck's sake, Nat..."

"What? It's better than actual E."

"Yeah, I know, the dealer thing..." Jess shakes her head. "But do you want kidneys?"

Nat shrugs. "Body..."

"'S a good body." Jess strokes Nat shoulder to tit to hipbone, then wraps her arm around her waist. There's definitely less meat than the last time they laid together. It's not her place to say something, though. That's Nat's business, until she gets to the hospitalization point.

"Anyway," Nat goes on, a little slurred. "Powder. That's the way to go."

Jess thinks of the first time she dipped her finger into a little plastic baggie of cocaine and set alight her nostril. She'd been, what, sixteen? Too young and too fed up with her foster care situation to give the cons of her choice much thought. "Yeah..."

She knows Nat started much of the same way, as an orphaned teen, either just out of the red room or during some tenured mission while she was still in their custody. The story changes sometimes. But the progression was much the same for both of them. Uppers. Then downers. Then, well, what they're playing with now. Only the grown-up type. Ecstasy and LSD were fun to use every once in a while, as an escape from the dreaded ordinary that was their lives.

They've discussed it. As much as either of them wants to discuss anything. Similar drug habits are a funny bond. One, a few months ago, they'd once smoked crack together before a mission, then been so thrilled no one had noticed that they stopped at the drugstore for a bottle of cheap champagne.

Champagne. She hasn't had any, so that's not the taste lingering on Jess's tongue. It's the cranberry, since she's scraped away all the white powder already. Jess forgets for a moment that she's had cranberry, though, and swallows hard, wondering if she's experiencing the dregs of vomit. She gulps a couple of times, and, unfortunately, Nat notices.

"Are you gonna puke?" she asks, slipping mostly off Jess and cuddling her from the side. "Are you seriously that high already?"

"No," Jess immediately protests. "I just... Cranberry." She tries to smile. She doesn't want to go through her train of thought to get to the champagne, so she just says, "I'm used to Jack, you know."

"And coke?" Nat grins.

"Ugh, no." Jess hasn't had that either since a bad night that ended with a bad trip. When some days include killing people, including one day long ago where her actions killed her parents, her occasional forays into hallucinogens can come out with some fairly awful results. That one, where the E had been downed with her favorite Jack Daniels and...someone else's... favorite diet coke, had resulted in images of dripping blood that turned out to be very real, as she'd bashed her nose into the edge of the toilet seat and busted a few vessels.

She knows Nat's teasing just a little, but Jess feels bad. She feels burdensome and heavy, which she knows is the recipe for a night of visions she'll regret. It's probably too late now to puke up the drug; Jess can feel it penetrating her system, arranging her settings to vibrate at the ultimate sensitivity.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jess asks, but it's pointless. Nat's already under, and there's no way to tell if she's heard the question. Her eyes are closed, and her chin rests on Jess's shoulder as her face burrows into the space between the bed's two pillows.

"Fuck..." Jess mumbles. Lights begin to flicker around the edges of her visual field. She resigns herself for whatever's about to come next and closes her eyes. She scoots so her hip is in the sideways V between Nat's torso and thighs. Her warmth is comforting, even as the vision begins to up her anxiety.

Jess feels as though she's one with the bed, one with Nat, and her body is rushing forward to some unknown location in the dark. She slips her arm between Nat's tangled ones and holds on. Nat moans a little, and Jess wonders what she's seeing. Something pleasurable, she hopes.

Jess lets out her breath and wonders what she'll see. She has a stomach full of nerves, but she fights to ignore them as she shrugs and forces herself to answer her own question. Something pleasurable, she hopes.

[flamencodiva]

Who Do You Think You Are? 4 - Motel Room

Description: Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester seem to bump into each other quite frequently. What happens when these two hunters rub each other the wrong way?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Bingo Square: Motel Room 

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Drug Abuse.

A/N: For SPN Dean Bingo Round One

Divider by @talesmaniac89​

Y/N groaned as she was pushed up against the wall. The vampire she was facing was snarling at her as she tried to push it away. Using all of her strength and with just a hint of adrenaline, Y/N gave a yell and was able to push the monster off her. She was about to chop off its head when a familiar sound of slicing filled her ears and the head rolled seamlessly. As the body dropped Dean Winchester stood with a cocky grin on his face.   

“Well don't you look like a damsel in distress, Princess,” He walked up to her and winked. 

“Please,” she rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove, “I had him right where I wanted him.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dean chuckled, “I take it that he would be leaving a very nice bloody hickey on your neck.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she brushed him off. “How did you hear about this?” 

“Garth,” Dean shook his head as they stalked around the warehouse looking for more vamps. 

Sam met up with them as they continued to behead vamp after vamp. After about an hour of hunting, it was deemed that the warehouse was cleaned out. Y/N made her way to her Pontiac, wiping her machete and putting it away. She could feel Dean’s eyes on her. She turned around and smiled. 

“Celebratory drinks at the nearby dive bar?” Y/N turned around. 

“Sounds good,” Dean agreed. 

For the past few months, Y/N had kept her distance from Dean. she could feel the effect he had on her. She was catching feelings. She didn’t like feelings. The relationship between her mother and Nikki proved that love was nothing but a myth.

Dean watched as Y/N knocked back shot after shot of Jack Daniels. He could see the pain in her eyes. There was something going on. 

"You, okay?" He leaned over the bar top as he knocked back his own shot. 

“Peachy,” she rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. “My stupid sperm donor won’t stop calling.” 

“Your dad?” Dean asked. 

“Sperm Donor,” Y/N amended. “He will never be my Dad. No matter how many times he says he’s sorry or he tries to buy his way into my life.” 

“What if he’s really sorry?” Dean hated seeing her in pain. He could tell that she really wanted a relationship with her father, even if she was being stubborn about it. 

“Too little, too late,” she huffed. “My mother is dead. And all she ever talked about was him and how good he was before the drugs. But I never believed her. He could have stayed clean for her, could have tried to be better. But he found a new pussy to fuck with new kids and I was just a bastard burden to him.” 

Dean stayed silent letting her vent. He had half a mind to find out who her dad was and just knock his teeth in. It didn’t take long for Y/N to develop a good buzz. She joked with Dean and changed the subject to hunting. They were retelling their favorite hunts, one of which landed Y/N in a hospital where her uncles all visited. 

“I have a very nice jagged scar on my side from that one.” She laughed. 

“Might have to see that one later,” Dean whispered in her ear. 

"Not tonight cowboy," she shrugged him off. "We've been getting a little too close to my liking.” 

“I--” Dean opened and closed his mouth as he watched her walk away towards the pool tables. 

Dean frowned as he watched her from the bar. He watched as she flirted and moved her hips almost leaning into a douchebags touch. His jaw clenched and he watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear before walking away, heading to the restrooms. Slamming his latest shot down he walked over to the guy and shook his head. 

“Hey man, you sure you want to tap that girl that was just here?” He nodded to the man. 

“You mean hottie with the body?” he smirked. “Yeah, man I mean she has a great set of tits and a nice ass. I mean you would hit that right?” 

“Well,” Dean hissed and leaned back looking around for Y/N before he motioned for douche to lean forward. “Girl is a type 1 clingy bitch. Took me a good month and a half to get rid of her. I mean she was relentless. Don’t get me wrong,” he gave a sly smile. “She was great with a dick stuffed in her. But she was too clingy for my taste.” 

“Pussy is pussy,” he shrugged as he looked at Dean. “I can handle a clingy girl. But she didn’t really seem like the clingy type.”  

“Hey man I was just warning you,” Dean held up his hands and looked around. “But, honestly,” he pointed to a blond girl in the corner, “she looks like she is going to give you the best time of your life.” 

Dean smiled when Douche took a sip of his beer and made his way towards the blond he pointed out. With a satisfied smile, he turned only to be met with a fist to the face. 

“I’m Clingy?!” Y/N growled. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” 

“Come on, Y/N,” Dean rubbed his jaw. “Guy was a grade-A frat boy douche.” 

“And? What’s your point?”  She sighed. “Dean, I think we should cut the benefits out of the friends with benefits. If anyone is getting clingy here…” She shook her head sadly, “It’s you.” 

With that, she grabbed her leather jacket from one of the chairs and made her way out to her Pontiac. She had just touched the handle to the driver’s side door when her phone began to ring. 

“You got Y/N,” she sighed as she rubbed her eyes. 

"Y/N," her brother sounded scared. 

Rolling her eyes, she took in a deep breath, "this better be good." 

"Dad's in the hospital, Y/N," he rushed out. 

"Did he overdose on something? Because I honestly--" 

"He fell down the stairs," he sounded really scared. "He said he was hearing weird noises and it got cold. All of a side he said he felt hands behind his back and next thing, he was falling down the stairs and hurt his shoulder." 

“I’ll be there as quick as I can,” she breathed. 

If something was haunting her dad, she had to make sure her family was safe. Even if she hated him, she never wanted anything supernatural to get to him. 

It wasn’t in her nature. 

Driving down the highway she barreled through and forced herself to drive all day and night. When she reached San Jose, she made her way to the large estate Nikki Sixx had purchased. Punching in the code her dad had sent her a while ago, she drove up the driveway and parked in front of the door where Gunner was waiting. 

“Okay,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “You need to tell me everything that happened. I need to know if anything was bought at an auction or antique store. Or if it was something given by a family friend.” 

“Y/N, Dad doesn’t know about the other stuff you do, right?” Gunner looked to his older sister. He and storm were the only ones who knew about what Y/N did. 

It was one of the only secrets they shared. But even then, Y/N would never forgive them for how they continued to treat her. Even after saving them from the things that went bump in the night.

“No,” she breathed, “And he’s not going to, and neither are Deker and Frankie.” She pulled out her emf reader and looked at Gunner. 

“Where did he fall?” she made her way inside and towards the staircase. 

“Don’t you want to rest?” Gunner blocked her from moving forward. 

“I’m fine,” she brushed him off. “I’m not here as your sister. In fact, I’m not your sister I’m a hunter. I hunt things, things that give you nightmares so stop trying to be nice.” 

“Y/N,” Gunner looked at her sadly. “We were kids, and mom, my mom, was well she --” 

“Save it,” Y/N ignored him as she pulled out her EMF reader. 

She never noticed Gunner reaching into his pocket for something.  She pulled at the antenna and turned it on. The needle was going haywire with the reader picking up all sorts of activity. She raised her eyebrow at that. There was no way a perfectly good house, with no prior history would have EMF readings like this. 

“Where was Nikki when he said he felt the hands on his back?” She looked at Gunner. 

“It was around here,” he muttered as he watched her work. 

His big sister, who had scared off a monster when he was young. Who endured every nasty thing his mother had spewed about her, and now that he was older, he felt bad for how he treated her. Y/N had lost so much and had seen their father at his worst. He could see the pain in her eyes as she fought against his advances to apologize. He watched as Y/N sighed and shook her head. 

“I need to talk to Nikki about what he felt.” She rubbed at her temples. “Is there anything else you can think of? I mean I know you don’t live here but, have you felt any cold spots? Or heard any strange noises?” 

“I think Dad said he heard a low groan and the temperature suddenly dropped.” Gunner found something on the floor really interesting.   

“Right,” Y/N sighed and grabbed her keys. “What Hospital is he at?” 

“He’s at Cedar-Sinai,” Gunner rubbed the back of his neck. Hoping his plan was working. 

“Okay, I will head over there and talk to him about what happened.” She looked at the time. She had been up for almost twenty-four hours. 

Heading to her car she drove towards the hospital, showing her ID and was shown to his room. She ignored the guilt that was creeping up inside her for keeping him at arm’s length. She saw him there hooked up to the monitor. His shoulder in a sling. He looks older than she remembered. He was asleep when she came in and his current fling Courtney offered her a small smile. She tried to be friends with Y/N. But Y/N kept her distance. She had gone through this dance before. 

“I came to talk to him about what happened,” she whispered to Courtney. “I can come back when--” 

“Y/N?” Nikki’s voice sounded surprised that she was there. “How did you know I was here?” 

“Gunner called me,” she left it at that. “I can come back. I just came to ask you some questions Nik and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Courtney took that as her cue to leave father and daughter alone. Y/N walked around the room, her EMF reader secretly hidden. But there were no readings. 

“So,” She took in a deep breath. “Was the house built on an ancient burial ground that you don't know about?” 

“What?” Nikki tried to sit up and hissed. “What’s with the questions?” 

“Just humor me,” Y/N sighed. “Did you notice any cold spots around the stairs? Any weird noises? Or just strange occurrences?” 

“Y/N, what are all these questions about?” Nikki looked at his daughter. “Y/N, are you okay? Are you in trouble?” 

“Just answer the questions please,” Y/N rubbed at her temples. There was something wrong here. This wasn’t your typical haunting. 

“This is a shoulder injury that I had to correct,” Nikki sighed. “I bought the house, and I can tell you that it’s not on a burial ground. Y/N are you okay? Are you in trouble?” 

“So, wait,” Y/N clenched her jaw, “This was a planned surgery?” 

“Yeah,” Nikki reached for the cup of water. “I postponed it so I could finish the tour and then get it fixed.”  

“I’m going to kill Gunner,” she muttered. “Glad you’re alive Nik, sorry to be a burden… again.” she turned to leave ignoring Nikki’s cries to get back into the room. 

“Y/N wait,” He called after her. 

Pushing the Pontiac to rush back to the house, Y/N was ready to punch Gunner repeatedly. As she neared the house, she parked her car and stormed in. pulling out her EMF she turned it on noticing that the house was showing no signs of a haunting. Y/N looked around the house, it was completely empty. She looked from room to room, using the EMF reader to try and find anything. There was nothing. That is until she made her way to Gunner’s room. Opening the door, she gave a low angry growl. There on his bed was an EMF generator. 

Taking the machine in her hands she walked down the stairs and sat on the couch. The device on the coffee table as she waited for Gunner. She wasn't sure how long she was waiting seething before Gunner made his appearance.   

“So, Nikki was pushed by a ghost, huh?” She growled.

“Y/N, I can explain--” he began.

“That was such a low fucking blow,” she hissed. “I should have known that you would pull something like this. Not like I haven’t been humiliated by you and the others enough.”  Grabbing the EMF generator Y/N lifted it above her head before smashing it on the floor. “Don’t call me ever again.” 

“I just wanted to fix everything I did!” Gunner chased after her, “Damn it, you’re my big sister and I know that there are real monsters out there.” He called out as she reached the door, “I remember you saving me from one! Y/N? Y/N please, Dad wants you in his life, he’s always wanted you in his life.”  

Y/N ignored Gunner calling after her as she tossed her bag in the bag and cursed. It would be a five-hour drive to get to her apartment on the strip. Taking a deep breath, she made her way down the familiar road and towards a motel. All the while she never noticed the black Impala that had followed her. Pulling up to the office she grabbed a room and made her way to it. 

Dean watched as she closed her door before taking a deep breath and exiting his car. Walking to her door he lifted his fist and knocked. He knew what he did to her back at the dive bar was shitty, but he had to make sure she was okay. He gasped when she opened the door and glared at him. 

“Sorry,” She sneered. “I thought I was clingy. But it looks like you’re the one who can’t let go.” 

“I’m sorry,” Dean breathed. “You’re right. I should respect that you don’t want commitment. Hell, the life we live is not easy Y/N. And I’ll stay away if you really want me to.”  

Y/N sighed, “Just… let’s stick to just being friends.” 

“I--” Dean nodded and placed his hands in his pockets. “I guess we can be friends.” 

“Come on,” Y/N sighed as she opened the door wide. “We can watch some Dr. Sexy episodes and drink some whiskey, order pizza…” 

Dean smiled, “Yeah, We can. So, you got the room for the night?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Idiot guy tried to trick people into thinking a house was haunted. Came to check it out.” 

“Man, I hate when it’s a waste of a trip,” Dean took the second bed and stretched out. 

“What can we do,” Y/N shrugged. “People are morons.” 

Dean smiled at her as they settled on to their beds and hung out in the dusty motel room. Dean realized that while he would love nothing more than to hold and kiss Y/N, he would rather be her friend and have her in his life than not at all.

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Who Do You Think You Are? Status: Open

@spnfamily-j2​ @fantasydevil2002​ 

[artsoupsoupart]

Madney Week 2021:  Nice To Meet You Again

Day One: “May I have this dance?” + fluff

Read on Ao3

She doesn’t necessarily want to throw a ball. She doesn’t necessarily want to become ruler of their kingdom because it feels like it’s too soon. She’s not even twenty-one yet, just two years shy of it actually, but Maddie definitely knows she could run the country by herself, with very carefully selected advisors and just as tedious planning. But a future queen definitely deserves a future king (or queen), so it just makes sense to start her search now, when King Philip and Queen Margaret are almost at the end of their reign, though they’ve been at the end of their line as parents for years since Prince Daniel had been killed at war and well, they never really were parents to her and Evan if she’s being honest with herself.

At the thought of her older brother, she sighs. He had been everything a prince should be. Charming. Responsible. Brave. And gone all too soon. If only he hadn’t joined the army, he would probably still be here. He’d be taking over as king and he’d be the one compromising love for power and stability. The thought gives her pause, as she dresses for the morning. He’s been gone for three years. Just as soon as he had joined the military he had been taken away and his death had shaken the lives of their royal family and the country.

Maddie shakes her head, hoping to throw the thoughts of him out of her mind for the time being. She still misses him and probably always will, but she knows he’d want her to focus on being the best queen she could be. She dresses with the help of her maids, their chattering excitement a constant comfort. She had spent weeks picking out the perfect dresses and suits to make a good impression. The burgundy dress sweeps against her ankles and she feels confident in a way that she hadn’t since decided to begin her search. Her clothes will be at least a little comforting for the next week, a shield to show the perfectly prepared façade she hopes she pulls off.

There’s a knock at her door and in saunters her best friend, head-to-toe in his own royal regalia.

“Well, Your Majesty, don’t you look nice.”

She smiles, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not queen yet, Josh.” Maddie checks herself in the tall, ornate mirror one last time before taking off towards the door of her bedroom. “But thanks anyway. I may as well look nice for the teeth-pulling ahead.”

“It won’t be that bad, Maddie.” Josh huffs as they speed-walk side by side.

“Ew, it definitely will.” And she’s rushing through the corridors of the palace, not because she’s late (guests won’t begin arriving for another two hours at the earliest and a queen is never late, everyone is simply early), but because she wants to make sure everything is in order before the first guest arrives, mental lists being checked off with every step as she double and triple checks off item after item. “I am allowing all of the eligible princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses, barons and baronesses, and well-respected socialites into my home in the hopes that one of them will be able to help me run a country without their ego getting in the way.”

It’s not that she’s necessarily needs the help. But it’s hard to be princess and harder to be queen, which, for Maddie, will occur in approximately two years. She’s been planning this moment since she was a young teen, even before Daniel’s untimely death, and she’s ready to take on the responsibility. She’s ready for the bureaucratic meetings and the late nights, but she just doesn’t want to do it alone. Maddie had figured it was about time she opened herself up to more possibilities. Sure, throughout high school and now during university there have been a few dalliances between some of the same royals she’s welcoming into her home for the next week. They were never serious, though. There was never that wonderful spark that she thinks she saw in her parents growing up.

“Don’t think about it like that.” Josh says, his hands coming to her shoulders to stop her in her tracks. “Think of it like all the other balls you’ve thrown. A time to get to know people and maybe, just maybe, you’ll have fun and find the love of your life.”

“You’ve always been the optimistic one.”

His smile grows wide. “And I always will be. Now go. You’ve got royals to meet.”

Josh is gone from her side almost as quickly as he came and he’s right. She should try to not put so much pressure on this even though it’s the most important decision she’s made thus far. She’ll try to have fun and keep an open mind.

Maddie stands outside at the top of the grand staircase up to the palace, waiting for the arrival of her guests who she’ll greet before one of the butlers shows them off to their rooms. It’s something she’s done many, many times, but this time is different. She’s on the search for something that probably won’t be love, but maybe understanding and companionship. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?

“Prince Douglas of House Kendall” the footman announces. Doug steps from the limo, his suit perfectly tailored and his hair coiffed, not a strand out of place. He’s smug, as always, flirting with her though it makes her skin crawl. Well, he makes her skin crawl now. He hadn’t a few years ago when he had been someone she thought could have been the one. He’s too arrogant in private, too strict, expects the world to fall at his feet and for it to be perfect. Still, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors and she’d be lucky to have him as her king. At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Evan, or Buck as he’s taken to being called since his own adventures have started to flourish in his life, is by her side in an instant and she knows exactly why when the telltale flags of the stretch limo come into her line of vision.

“Duchess Taylor of House Kelly”, the footman introduces in his booming voice that Maddie is sure will give her a headache by the end of the day. She would be an apt contender, Maddie silently muses, but she’s her brother’s best friend and has been for the past five years and somehow that just feels wrong. Maddie knows that her younger brother spends a lot of time with the duchess, sparring and shooting at flying plates whenever they get the chance (a surprise to Maddie considering how rough and tumble they can be). She also has an inkling that her little brother might have a bit of a crush, and she has a tinier inkling that Taylor feels the same.  

She greets her as Taylor bounds up the stairs, a bright smile on her face. They’re practically family at this point so she really would fit perfectly, but no, she’s already crossed her name from her mental list. Besides, Taylor’s excitement isn’t for her but instead for her best friend who is already talking her ear off. Maddie tells them to go ahead, have their fun while she stays and greets the rest of the guests and the dynamic duo is already talking a mile a minute about what their plans are for the rest of the week.

Maddie is there for another hour, doing princess duties and greeting each potential suitor and nosy guest who’s only attending for good gossip. Her feet are tender and her face stiff from the plastered on smile as one final limo pulls into the circular driveway, those familiar flags stopping her heart and slowing down time. Out steps one Howard Han, sleek in his country’s royal colors of bright reds and vibrant golds. She hasn’t seen him since she was sixteen, a few months before Daniel had died. It had been two weeks after his eighteenth birthday and his father had forced him to return to their country or abdicate the throne. He had loved being a prince and his mother had always said he would be a great king, but his father had rushed him into the more serious side of his princely duties earlier than he would have liked.

No time has passed at all before he’s standing in front of her with that same boyish grin that still feels so friendly yet now with an underlying hint of something she can’t quite put her finger on. He’s a bit taller than that last time she’d laid eyes on him, more muscular too.

“Princess, it’s good to see you again.” He must see the shock on her face because he’s scratching at the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t ruin your guest list. I was a late RSVP.”

For a moment she just stares at him before shaking her head with an almost shy smile. “It’s good to see you too. And it is absolutely no problem, there’s a room waiting for you.”

“Good, I guess I’ll see you later at the welcome ball.”

She nods her head, blush still coloring her cheeks as he follows the last butler to his room.

…

The orchestra plays as she enters the ballroom at the top of yet another grand set of stairs. She notices her parents have deigned to show their faces, knowing they’re only there for the press.  All eyes on her and somehow in the crowd she finds Howie’s. As much as she wants to talk to him, Princess Maddie kicks in and her smile is bright and cordial while she greets her guests. She makes a short speech and then the ball begins, and she’s swept away to mingle and dance and scope out her future spouse.  

As she dances with yet another forgettable suitor, she catches Howie’s gaze as he leans against a high table, and he pulls a face that makes her snort and hide in the shoulder of her dance partner. She shouldn’t be so focused on him, it’s not what a good hostess would do. But Maddie can’t help it. In the three years since they’ve seen each other, he’s changed. His jaw is sharper, his hair messier. He’s clean shaven and she wonders if that’s new or if he sometimes has stubble that would feel rough against her cheek… She stops herself, shaking her head and abruptly but politely excusing herself.

She stands on the side of the dancefloor, shaded by the cover of a gigantic pilar as she stops to take a deep breath. Maddie doesn’t think she expected to find the love of her life here. Love at first sight doesn’t exist, not to her at least. But if she really thinks about it, that’s not what this is either. She didn’t just see Howie for the first time and fall in love. She definitely didn’t romantically love him when they were children. But he’s so familiar, and his smile warms the pit of her stomach and that must mean something.

“May I have this dance?” Her eyes settle on the glove-covered hand, following up the sculpted arm and curved shoulder. They settle on the brightest eyes of Howard Han of Manicague and yeah, this means something. Maddie nods and her hand slips into his and they’re off to twirl around the dance floor.

He sweeps her across the room, their focus completely on each other as though they’re the only two in existence, everyone else fading to the background.

“What have you been up to, Prince Howard?”

“You know, some people call me Chimney now,” he smiles, standing a bit straighter.

Intrigued by the change of posture, she tilts her head and flashes him a dazzling smile that definitely affects him if the sparkle in his eyes mean anything. “And why is that?”

“That’s a conversation that shouldn’t be had on a ballroom dance floor.” It’s innocent but there’s something in the way the timbre of his voice drops that shoots right to the butterflies that flutter inside of her. Her foot just catches his toe enough for him to feel it. Howie winces, but chuckles through it, “Still stumbling after all this time, my Princess?”

Maddie’s steps falter yet again, her cheeks flushing scarlet as she scoffs. Because she’s been Princess Maddie and Her Royal Highness Madeline her entire life, but since she was five years old, she was his princess. Back then, she was his princess in purely innocent, best friend ways. And maybe they could be best friends again and maybe she could be his princess. His Queen.

“From what I remember I never missed my marks unless you tripped me.”

“Me? Trip a princess? Never”

She laughs again. “Please, I remember at least twice when you purposefully tripped me.”

“I was nine!”

“It was still purposeful!”

He holds her closer, the room and music from the ochestra fading away even more than it already had as warmth fills her entire being. “Well, maybe you’ll fall differently this time and I’ll be right there to catch you like before.”

Maddie’s chest rises and falls deeply as she stares into his warm, kind eyes. She nods, lip between her teeth. “Maybe.”

She has to remind herself to tell Josh that it probably won’t be that bad after all.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I Have Never Been Brave

Just a 30-minute “see what I can write in that time” drabble! Angsty and sad, but hey, what else do you read me for?

Tagging @finder-of-rings, @special-spicy-chicken, @spiffythespook, @whumpywhumper, and @bleeding-demon-teeth

CW: References to dehumanization, PTSD, near-flashbacks, but nothing specific

The woman in the grocery store puts a hand on his arm, and Danny nearly recoils before he catches himself.

Don’t pull away. Never flinch. 

He swallows against the way his skin crawls even through his heavy sweater - too heavy for the time of year, they say, but even though cold doesn’t bother Danny any longer like it used to, he never really feels warm, either.

Malnourishment, the doctors say. Four years of never eating enough, of Abraham making sure he didn’t have enough to keep him healthy. He’s started putting on weight but it’s not enough, not yet, and the doctors make him go back once a month to get weighed again.

Patrick’s private doctors are nice enough to Danny - he’s known them his whole life - but they don’t know what to do with what happened to him, with what he is now. And he won’t let them look at everything, like the doctors in Canada did. 

That had been an emergency. Danny hadn’t been entirely himself yet, had still been drifting back and forth between someone else and himself, depending on whether or not Nate was nearby. 

“Excuse me,” The woman asks him in a tremulous voice. She’s older, way older than Dr. Rosa, and she’s perfectly harmless.

And still Danny swallows back fear at her touch.

“Are you the young Michaelson boy? From the news?”

Danny shifts, uncomfortably. Beside him, Ryan’s been engrossed in staring at two different brands of chicken broth, trying to figure out which one has less sodium. Ryan’s head snaps up, and he moves closer immediately.

The woman’s hand is still on Danny’s arm. “Y-Yes,” Danny whispers. “That’s me.” His face was in the paper, Mom said. Corrine had called excited because they’d run her quote, and mentioned the company.

 They had printed the photo of Danny walking in, flanked by Nate and Ryan, noticeably, significantly taller than the both of them. With Ryan’s scarf wrapped around his neck, in the coat that used to fit and now hung off of him, with his wavy hair still a little too long, he’d looked like Sherlock Holmes from TV. At least, Ryan said so. Danny thought he just looked sort of homeless, but like, homeless with a lot of money for clothes.

But they’d run his picture in the paper, even though he didn’t want them to.

No one ever asked.

Daniel Michaelson Makes a Stand: Survivor Stares Down Abraham Denner in Sensational Sentencing Hearing

Had it been sensational? Danny didn’t know. But Corrine had been excited to see a positive mention of the company and all their hard work, all the money they’d paid for search parties, how they never gave up.

Danny fights an older, harder version of himself that hisses, you gave the fuck up a long time ago.

Instead, he reminds himself to be grateful that they had ever looked at all. You have to be grateful, and he could have had so much less than he did. He could have had nothing at all, he could have stayed in the system until he aged out, he could have never come home. He could have never had Ryan.

You have to be grateful for every gift you are given

“I won’t keep you long,” The old woman says, squeezing his arm, and Danny doesn’t whine, or whimper, or beg, but he can’t quite keep the urge to do all of those things at once from the back of his mind.

Please stop touchig me

Ryan steps serenely and gracefully around him, reaching out with his hand. “Ryan Michaelson, I’m Danny’s younger brother. Can we help you?”

She pulls away from Danny to shake Ryan’s hand and Danny breathes out all at once. Ryan is close to him, so close, but never quite touches him, not even the slightest brush. Danny shifts around so he’s a little more behind his brother, even though the idea of hiding behind him is ridiculous when Ryan is several inches shorter than he is and Danny towers over everyone, even more noticeable with how skinny he is. 

“Oh, hello, Mr. Michaelson. I suppose I can’t call both of you Mr. Michaelson, but ah well, that’ll do for now.” The old woman pats Ryan with her other hand while still holding his. Her eyes, a pale, slightly rheumy gray, meet Danny’s again and he manages a slightly more sincere smile for her even as his heart pounds inside his chest.

I don’t trust you, I can’t trust anyone, everyone looks at me

“You can call me Ryan,” His brother says smoothly. “I don’t mind that at all. Danny and I were just grabbing a few things for dinner tonight, and we’re in a bit of a hurry-”

“Oh, of course, of course. I just wanted to say… well.” She turns back to Danny. “You’re a very brave young man, aren’t you?”

(what a good brave boy you are)

Danny blinks, surprised enough for a second that he doesn’t remember to be afraid of her. “I am?”

“Of course, love. Going in there, that was very brave of you. You showed quite a bit of gumption and courage, young man. That’s rare in your generation-”

Ryan’s face didn’t move, but Danny, with the ancient knowledge all brothers share, could feel him resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

“-and it should be spoken of, when you see it. I’ll be on my way now, love, but I just wanted to let you know that there were plenty out there proud to see you stand up so tall even when-”

(I’m so proud of you, puppy, you did so good coming here to see me-… get your hands off me, I’m talking to my dog-… listen, Red, listen to me, sweet thing-… it’s not over between us, you understand?)

She had finished her sentence but Danny hadn’t heard it, had instead seen Abraham’s eyes when they left his and went to Nate, and the way it had felt when Nate reached right back over the wooden barrier to grab Danny’s hand and hold so tightly it ached, but Danny held on, too.

(I love you, baby - I love you and I’ll find you, I’ll find you, Nate, I’ll come back for you, you’re almost ready, I’ll never leave you alone)

“Thank you so much,” Ryan says, covering over Danny’s glazed eyes, leaning over to give her hand a pat with his own. “But if you don’t mind, we really are running late for dinner-”

“Oh, of course, of course. Stay strong, young man,” The old woman called to him, and moved away.

Danny still stood like a statue, but he understood that she had meant no harm, and it was nice of her to speak to him, really. It was nice, that there were people out there who wanted to know he was doing okay. It was nice, and it was fine, and he was grateful.

You have to be grateful.

“You okay, Danny?” Ryan murmured to him, and Danny shook his head.

“My, um.” He shifted closer to his brother, unconsciously, and caught Ryan’s honeyed eyes with his own. “My name is, is Red, my name is Red.”

One his hands went up to rub at his face, to find the scar in his jaw, rub at it, remind himself.

Ryan let out a long, slow sigh, and nodded. “Okay, Red. Do you still want to get the stuff for dinner or should we just go?”

Danny’s hands began to shake. “You… you have to decide, I can’t, I can’t make that, I can’t do that, puppies don’t-”

(puppies don’t get to choose)

“I get it,” Ryan cut him off, eyes moving back and forth to see if anyone else had noticed or heard. “Let’s go, D-… let’s go, Red. Let’s just go home, I’ll call out for pizza or something. It’s no big deal. Let’s just go.”

When Ryan takes his arm in his hand, Danny doesn’t stop him.

He doesn’t flinch, or pull away.

“Maybe Nate can pull you back out,” Ryan mutters to himself, and Danny wants to apologize for himself, for everything he is, but he can’t, because Abraham’s voice inside his head is too loud, too much.

(how many rules have you broken today?)

“My name is Red,” Danny whispers as they pass through the automatic doors into the warm sunshine outside, and everyone else is wearing T-shirts but Danny shivers in his heavy sweater. “My name is Red and I’m being good.”

“I know, man, I know,” Ryan says, but it’s gentle, and there’s no sign of the annoyance or impatience Danny knows he has to feel.

Please, I’m sorry, but I can’t get him out of my head, I’m sorry, I’m sorry sorry sorry

“I’ll try harder next time,” Danny says softly, following Ryan, who leads him by the arm like a parent with a worried child. “I’ll be good, next time, okay? I’ll try harder, I’ll do better, I can, I can be good, Ryan, I’m sorry-”

“No apologies, okay?” Ryan stops him by the car. “No apologies. Today’s just a bad day, don’t apologize for that. We’ll get back up and maybe tomorrow will be a Danny day, okay?”

Danny nods, slowly, and when Ryan opens the door he folds himself into the passenger seat, worrying his hands together, rubbing at his scars.

I have never been brave.

(what a good brave boy you are)

He just wished they would stop looking, that was all.

If they’d stop looking at him, maybe he could forget what he is.

“My name is Red,” he whispers as Ryan crosses around to the other side of the car. “And I belong to Abraham Denner.”

[aswithasunbeam]

A long overdue new chapter!

July 1813

Hamilton exhaled slowly through his nose as he set aside the latest Federalist newspaper in the stack waiting for Madison’s perusal. “The little occupant in the White House with his crippled army,” proclaimed the most prominent headline. Though clearly aimed primarily at Madison, the slight against Hamilton stung. He braced his hand against the wheels of his chair, lost in thought.

“General Hamilton?”

Looking up, saw a gentleman approaching from the direction of the President’s office. His wild hair, bushy brows, and piercing eyes gave him an almost menacing quality. The man thrust out a hand and waited, expressionless. Hamilton met his gaze steadily as he gave the hand a quick shake.

“Daniel Webster, sir. A great honor to meet you.”

Considering the name, Hamilton recalled, “The representative from New Hampshire?” One of the few Federalist victories in the last election. Considering how disastrous their campaigns had gone thus far, he couldn’t believe they hadn’t made more gains.

“That’s right, sir.”

“I appreciated your level-headedness over all the nonsense regarding secession in the North.” Webster inclined his head. “Though I must say your position on wartime taxes leaves something to be desired.”

“I don’t see why the Northerners should be forced to pay for a war that’s already bankrupting them.”

“Bankrupting the country as a whole will surely do little to redress their suffering,” Hamilton said.  

“Respectfully, I disagree. I was sent to represent my constituents, and they expect me to stand up against this shameful excuse for a war. I won’t vote to force them to serve in the army; I won’t vote to raise their taxes; and I won’t vote to impose embargoes that will further injure their businesses. That’s the promise I made to them.” Webster glanced back over his shoulder towards the President’s office. “As I told the President, he’ll find no relief from my prescriptions.”1

Hamilton sighed even as he forced a smile to end the meeting. “Well, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Webster.”

As Webster started down the hall, Hamilton pushed himself towards Madison’s now open office door. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, however, Mrs. Madison stepped in front of his path. She looked harried and exhausted, her hair lank and her fine gown a touch looser than usual.

“I’m sorry, General Hamilton, but he’s in no state to see anyone else,” she said.

“Let him in, Dolley,” Jemmy croaked from within the office.

Mrs. Madison turned her hard stare back to the interior of the office. Hamilton craned his neck slightly to see Jemmy lying listless on a settee, still dressed in his nightclothes, complete with his cap despite the blazing temperature outside. The raging bilious fever had taken a stark toll on Jemmy’s already feeble frame.

“It’s bad enough that awful man demanding to see you, James. I can’t—”

“Let him in.” Jemmy’s hand twitched in invitation.

Mrs. Madison reluctantly stepped aside and tapped the door closed when Hamilton had entered, though he noted that she’d remained in the office with them.

“You’re looking better, Jemmy,” Hamilton said as he stopped before the settee.

“Liar.” Jemmy smiled slightly. “What’s happened now? Not good news from Montreal, I suppose?”

“No. Last I heard, Hampton and Burr are both refusing to follow orders from Wilkinson. I can’t say that I blame them.”

“Wilkinson outranks them both.”

“Burr ought to be in charge. He turned a rout at Queenstown Heights into a near victory. He’s the best suited for command.”

“He’d barely made any progress after Queenstown,” Jemmy said dismissively.

“You know, Congress tried to remove Washington several times because he wasn’t making enough progress, in their view.”

“Are you trying to compare Burr with Washington?”

“I’m saying political timetables and effective military command don’t often mix well. And I don’t trust Wilkinson an inch.”

“He warned us about Burr’s treachery,” Jemmy argued, adjusting slightly to sit up more against the pillows piled behind him, his arm moving to guard his stomach.

“You don’t find that suspicious? That Wilkinson had so much information?”

“You’re the one who said Burr was innocent.”

“A court of law said that,” Hamilton corrected. Jemmy snorted derisively. “And Burr’s innocence doesn’t clear Wilkinson.”

Jemmy looked at him steadily, unmoved.

Shaking his head slightly, Hamilton said, “Wilkinson isn’t what I’m here to talk to you about, anyways. I’ve been getting more intelligence about Admiral Cockburn’s movements in the Chesapeake.”

“Is he still attempting to capture me and send me to London as a war prize?” Jemmy leaned his head back against his pillows as he clutched his belly through what appeared to be a cramp. “I’d make a sorry prize for them as I am now, I’m afraid.”

“You shouldn’t be so dismissive. Almost the entirety of our army is in Canada. If the British invade in the mid-Atlantic, they’d have their run of New York, Baltimore, even Washington.”

“What do you want to do about it?”

“Bring Burr or Hampton down with at least two battalions. Fortify the capital.”

“No.”

Hamilton sat back, stunned at the immediate and vehement refusal. “No?”

“We need to take Montreal. The Canadians will ally with us if we just make a strong enough showing against the British.”

“I very much doubt that, Mr. President.”

Jemmy’s eyes flashed. “We’re fighting for their freedom as much as ours. They’ll see that. They’ll join us.”

“I imagine it doesn’t feel much like fighting for their freedom when they’re being compelled to join us as gunpoint, Jemmy.”

“We’re not moving troops away from Montreal.”

Pausing a moment, Hamilton suggested, “I did have another idea.”

“What?”

“Cockburn is freeing enslaved men and women along the coast and arming them against us. If we were to remove the enticement by offering a similar arrangement with our army, we could build our numbers in the mid-Atlantic and the South without requiring any of our troops be moved from the Northern theater.”

Jemmy sat up fully, jaw gaping. “You can’t be serious.”

The astonishment was expected. Jack’s plan during the Revolution to give Black men the chance to fight for their freedom had been met with much the same reaction. The moment he’d heard about Cockburn’s strategy to free and arm enslaved men against the American army, Hamilton had known what the best solution to counter the British would be. He’d also known that the South would rather surrender to British rule than risk their despicable institution.

“I’m perfectly serious,” Hamilton said calmly.

“You want to arm slaves?”

“They’re going to fight either way. I’d rather they fight with us than against us.”

“The South would revolt! This is no time for your radical Northern…abolitionism.” The final word was uttered as if it were a curse, though Hamilton would consider his proposal neither radical, nor truly abolitionism.  

“So, you would let prejudice and private interest outweigh the common good? Outweigh the safety of our capital city, even?”

“It’s not an option, Hamilton.”

He felt his pulse speeding up, even having known Madison would never entertain the suggestion. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Avarice has fitted our Southern brethren for the chain, so long as that chain be a golden one.”2

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Hamilton huffed an unamused laugh. “It may not seem so dramatic when British troops are marching down Pennsylvania Avenue.”

“Washington surely won’t be a target. There are far more attractive cities. And besides, we’re sending emissaries to initiate peace talks. We may see an end to the war before any such drastic measures would even need to be contemplated.”

“If you say so, Mr. President.”

“Was there anything else?” Jemmy’s voice had gone faint, and he was breathing hard as he sank back deep into his pillows.

Mrs. Madison stepped forward, placing herself between Hamilton and Jemmy. “I think that’s quite enough for today. General.”

Hamilton nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Madison.”

Before he left the office, Mrs. Madison called out after him, “Give my love to Mrs. Hamilton, General, if you will?”

“Of course,” he agreed.

As he made his way down the hall, he found himself wishing desperately for Jack in a way he hadn’t in years. Jack had been young and idealistic, a Southern gentleman capable of making his plan a reality despite all that stood against him. Even when Jack had been alive, Hamilton didn’t have the same stubborn belief in America’s better angels necessary to see such a plan to fruition.

As he was assisted into the coach to head home, he felt utterly defeated.

**

The report he needed had been pushed accidentally to the far end of the desk. A quick glance told him his chair couldn’t be maneuvered into the tight space at the edges to allow him to reach. He could call for an aid, of course, or Betsey, but the sting of Jemmy’s immediate rejections, of his inability to sway his own party, of the mocking headlines, were all far too fresh.

His arms trembled as he pushed himself up from his chair, all his weight on the table. Sweat beaded on his brow. His legs were limp beneath him. Transferring his weight onto one hand, he reached out towards the report, muscles shaking.

“Alexander!”

He nearly fell, only just catching himself, his hip banging into the side of the table as he re-adjusted his weight onto both hands.

Betsey was at his side in a moment, her hands sliding around his waist to brace him. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting a report,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’ll get it. Sit back down,” she urged.

“I’m not helpless!”

She didn’t recoil at his shouting. Her expression was soft as she soothed a hand down his spine. “I know that, sweetheart. I know.”

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his temper.

He felt her lean closer, her nose brushing his cheek tenderly.

“I’d nearly forgotten how tall you are,” she whispered. He opened his eyes and looked down at her face. His trembling arms gave way, and he fell back hard into his chair with a soft curse.

“Which report did you need?” Eliza asked. She looked away as he adjusted himself, allowing him to preserve at least some of his dignity.

“The Quartermaster’s report, please,” he asked, forcing his legs back into place. He rubbed a hand over his temple, a headache banging against his temples.

The sound of a chair dragging across the wooden floor drew his attention. Eliza settled in beside him, the report he’d requested now resting on the tabletop before him. Her hand rested on his forearm, her face open.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Hamilton admitted softly.

“Do you ever?”

He laughed. “Perhaps not.”

She leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Madison won’t listen to me. Not about who to trust in command. Not about where to put our troops. And then, like a glutton for punishment, I raised the idea of offering freedom to the enslaved population to help defend the capitol and the Southern states.”

“Like Jack tried to do.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded. “Like Jack. Madison didn’t even consider it. He’s convinced the British won’t attack Washington.”

“It’s the capital,” she said, skepticism written in her expression. “Why wouldn’t it be a target?”

Hamilton shrugged. “He’s obsessed with the Northern theater. I just, I don’t know why I’m even here. What good am I doing? Giving endless advice that no one follows?”

“What do you want to be doing?”

“Something…meaningful.”

“You want to go north.” Again, she didn’t phrase it as a question.

“Not to the front. But…yes. I want to be on the field. I want to try to help in a way that will matter more than pushing paper around on my desk.” He waved to his overburdened table in disgust. “I need to feel like it matters that I’m here.”

She sighed. “Then we’ll go north.”

[mvnvgedmischief]

bad luck: chapter 5

you have no idea how unproductive this is

work summary: normalcy. remus lupin has always craved normalcy. so he keeps his life at home in wales, where he’s a normal muggle boy with normal muggle friends and normal muggle interests separate from his school life, of magic, mischief, and deception. the only thing allowed to cross the threshold? his skateboard. however, he tries desperately to hide it from his friends, for fear of his favorite, normal muggle interest being taken from him, his space being violated. too bad sirius black has shaken up his entire worldview, and he can’t keep his friends out forever.

chapter summary: remus is trying to figure out what’s going to happen after he graduates, but with the limitations on werewolves in the wizarding world, he’d rather just disappear back into the streets of Bangor. Too bad that will have an impact on his relationships

2.2k words

read it on ao3

The end of term was terrifying. In those months, before the NEWTs, everything felt like it was pressing on him, like the pressure of the world was mounting. It made him feel so lonely, like nothing he was doing would ever measure up to the expectations his mam had set for him. She said he could have anything if he worked hard enough for it. She said that the wolf would never hold him back if he didn’t want it to. And for so long, he had believed her. It was only his meeting with McGonagall that made him reconsider the notion. She told him all of the places that wouldn’t hire him because of the wolf, and the only thing that could possibly save him was perfect scores on his NEWTs. It had been a hard pill to swallow, compounded with the fact that a war was mounting all around him, one side threatening to kill people like him while the other continued to cast him aside, like some kind of second class citizen. There was no winning, for him. He could fight for the Order, among all of his friends, or he could say goodbye to those relationships and disappear from the Wizarding World entirely, and be blamed if the Order failed to crush Lord Voldemort and his insurgency group. There were no other choices. The meeting ended with Remus storming out, and jumping on his board to blow off steam, as many other events in his life had. There were no other options. Not when he had so much on the line, and no one wanted to fight for a better life for him. 

Remus was angry, he was hurting, and he felt so alone. He had grown tired of the sound of wheels against the familiar old floors of Hogwarts. He had grown tired of the thrumming of magic all around him, and all he wanted was to return to the streets of Bangor, with the lightly salted wind in his hair and the crashing of the waterfront. He wants to come home to his mam’s Bara Brith and his Tad making jokes at their meager kitchen table. He doesn’t want to wear second hand, moth-eaten robes anymore, and pretend to be this young man, this wizard that he isn’t. He’s just a normal kid from Bangor– he really is– and this is all becoming too much. It’s too much to think about how the Ministry doesn’t want to employ him, too much to think about how the only places he might ever work are low-level retail, too much to think about how everyone will know he’s a monster. It’s all too much, and before Remus knows it he’s behind a tapestry biting back sobs. He sat in the cloak of darkness behind the thick, woolen fabric for hours, missing his planned study session with Lily and going to dinner with Sirius, because he couldn’t bring himself to leave here, to leave the safety of his isolation. But the tears are long dried, and the shaking of his hands has calmed down. He could feel Sirius’s presence before he could see him, and he knew that he wanted to be alone, but something deep within forced him out of the hiding place he had found, in search of the other boy. His not boyfriend. His undefined partner with whom he tended to dissolve into giggles, and made out with. His padfoot. He felt like he was always running into Sirius’s arms, always looking for comfort in the arch of his neck and the curve of his collarbone. But the more Remus thought about it– about how he felt drawn to the other man and simultaneously tried to pry himself away. He couldn’t rely on anyone else this way, not when, in just a few weeks, this would all be over. Not when he was about to lose everything. But that didn’t stop him from wanting this closeness so desperately, because all he wanted was to feel safe for a while. Safe, not different, and dangerous, and isolated. 

He knew Sirius knew something was wrong. He could tell by the way his arms curled around Remus, and he pulled him tightly into a hug. Remus only allowed himself to return it for a short moment, before he was pulling away and mumbling something about going to the owlry to pick up his mail. He had been waiting on a letter from Daniel, who said something good was happening back in Bangor. The more Remus thought about it, the more he wished more good things would happen in Bangor. He needed something to come home to, when James, Peter, and Sirius wouldn’t talk to him because he didn’t want to join the Order, something to keep him from missing them too deeply. But Sirius is lacing their fingers together, saying he’ll walk him, and even holding his skateboard (Remus suppressed a cringe at the mall grab). He didn’t have the energy to argue, so he simply nodded and silently led the way. 

It took Remus a while to open the letter. He wasn’t afraid to admit it. Sirius had been fairly demanding of his attention, and he wasn’t exactly going to back down from that. Not when his time was so limited and he realized just how fragile these relationships were. Who was he to deny the other boy some time in a broom closet. But when he finally does open it, he feels guilty and giddy all at once. 

Laces,

It’ll never be not fucking mad that I have to mail you a letter to tell you anything. But whatever, smarmy is as smarmy does. Anyways, more to the point: we’re getting a skatepark in Bangor. Maybe you could bring your posh mates around, and we’ll actually have something to show for this drab old city. 

My mam said hi. Hope’s not doing too well. She told me not to tell you, but I figured you needed to know. She’s been having tea with my mam a lot, something about feeling isolated in the hospital. But she’s strong, she’ll be alright, yeah? Figure when the park opens you’ll probably be home a lot more because of it, so you’ll have something to do when she’s having a kip. 

Cheers mate, 

Peds

Remus couldn’t help his feelings, although he knew they were seemingly out of sorts for a good news letter. He couldn’t help the way his heart climbed into his throat at the thought of bringing his friends from school back to Gwynedd, at the thought of them seeing his mam when she wasn’t at her best, or making a fool of themselves in front of his mates because they didn’t know how to fall in line like muggles. But before he can even snap back in to the conversation around him, James is stealing the letter from his hands and joking “‘S this from that girlfriend of yours from first year?” It’s only when he reads through the content of the letter that he shuts up, and he doesn’t react the way Remus expects him to. He expects the pitying looks he gets every time he talks about his mam’s illness, or just how bad it was getting, but instead, he hears james guffawing. 

“We’re not posh or smarmy you bloody git!” He grinned, and Remus doesn’t know how to stop himself from laughing. 

“Yeah, Moony! We’re not! I’m punk rock, you fucker!” Sirius joins in. Peter shakes his head in disbelief at the conversation unfolding before them, and Remus agrees with the sentiment. 

“You absolutely are, you plonkers.” 

“So when are we meeting these mates of yours, Moony?” Sirius’s eyebrow was raised, as if to encourage him. But the way he squeezes Remus’s hand reminds him that he doesn’t have to say yes if he doesn’t want to. He worries his lower lip between his teeth, because he doesn’t know how to break this to them. Not with the war, and all of his doubts. 

“I guess that depends on how you take what I’m about to tell you.” He let’s out a deep sigh. “I dunno about joining the Order. I know there’s a war on but–”  He can feel the gasps around him, and he knows his hands are beginning to shake with this new explanation. 

“Moony we’re joining the Order for Lily and for –” 

“And so that people like my fucking parents can’t keep doing what they do with their stupid blood purity and their stupid fucking unforgivable curses. It’s bloody important that we all join the Order, Remus. What the fuck?” 

Well that wasn’t the reaction Remus wanted, but it was definitely the one he was expecting. He wants to say he understands all of that, but his mam is sick and he needs to be there for her. He needs to get a GED and join the work force and get away from all of the people who thought he wasn’t worthy of having a job or being a part of society. But they wouldn’t understand, and he knew it. There would be no changing their minds, not when they had reacted like this. 

“The Order doesn’t protect me,” He’s trying to keep his voice even and level, “and even if it did, my mam is sick and there’s no one to take care of her. I don’t know if I can just go join the war effort if she’s going to be all alone at home. I don’t–” He pauses, “dydych chi byth yn mynd i fy neall i, dwi ddim yn gwybod pam dwi'n ffycin trafferthu.” you’re never going to understand, i don’t know why i fucking bother. 

“Doesn’t protect you? Moony, of course it does.” 

“Yeah? You asked Dumbledore what he’s going to do about discrimination againt werewolves? About the fact that I can’t go home and just get a job, but I can’t get a job in the wizarding world because I know no one will hire me. About the fact that when I leave here, I have to register myself to be chained in a dungeon for the moon for the rest of my life? You talked to him about fighting to protect me?” He doesn’t know when he started yelling. “Of fucking course you didn’t. So quit banging on about how I should be fighting this war when both sides of it are out to get me.” 

He snatched the paper out of Jame’s hand and stalked off into the dormitory. Remus just wanted to be alone for a few minutes, to get his head back on straight. He can hear chatter in the other room, but it doesn’t stop him from climbing into bed and drawing his curtains. He’s frustrated with how little his friends truly understand him. His friends from home, who had no idea about the wolf, still somehow knew him better and that was something that scared the shit out of him. 

But Remus was wrong, he didn’t know it, but it was true. His mates at school knew him as well as he had let them, just like his friends at home. They knew his side of the dormitory mimicked the chaos in his mind, they knew he liked to read books when he was sad because it reminded him of his mam, they knew how to tame the wolf and remind him that he was a person, they knew how to make him laugh, even on his darkest days. They knew Remus better than he had given them credit for, and Sirius was spearheading the efforts to remind him of it as he moped. He was organizing the other two boys to pick up a bit of chocolate from honeydukes, to steal some new wax from Slugorn’s office, and to secure him a few new books. They wanted to remind him that they cared after he lashed out, finally seeing that he didn’t know how important he was to them. Because Remus was not just an integral part of the Marauders, he was the glue that held them all together.

[magdalenadaniels]

THE LOST LAMB CHARACTER STUDY

FULL NAME: Magdalena Ameena Daniels BIRTH-DATE: May 12th, 1993 AGE: Twenty-seven  STAR-SIGN: Taurus GENDER IDENTITY: Cisfemale (she/her) ORIENTATION: Closeted homosexual/homoromantic OCCUPATION: Church Pianist/Organist TRIGGERS: Death, suicide, alcoholism, hints of homophobia, NSFW

The Beginning…

Lights flickered in the bathroom of the Daniels’ household. A storm was swirling outside the concrete walls of the home as the screams of a woman vibrated over the thunder that in itself, demanded to be heard. With a final cry from the new mother came the first of many from the first and only child brought into the world by Adam and Ameena Daniels.

“It’s a girl!” The father chirped, pulling their blessing into his arms.

But something wasn’t right. Whereas Adam’s eyes welled up with tears of joy, Ameena’s eyes glazed over and stared up at the trembling popcorn ceiling. The tub that was filled with warm water was now crimson, tainted with the blood of a beautiful daughter, wife and mother. Turns out that the newborn child wasn’t the only soul to wail into the night as the lights continued to flicker before going out completely.

Seven Years Later…

“I love you mommy.”

A little girl’s voice echoed through the empty cemetery, her small hands resting a bouquet of daisies against a tombstone marked with the name Ameena Daniels. She tugged at the hand of her father to kneel down with her in prayer. He obliged, pulling a cross from beneath his shirt and holding it between cupped hands.

“Father of all, we pray to you for Ameena, and for all those whom we love but see no longer. Grant to them eternal rest. Let light perpetual shine upon them. May his soul and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.” He prayed, pressing chapped lips to the rosary before the girl next to him began her own prayer.

“In your hands, O’ Lord, we humbly entrust our Ameena. In this life you embraced her with your tender love; deliver her now from every evil and bid her eternal rest. Welcome my mommy into paradise where there will be no pain, but peace and joy with your Son and the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.”

“Amen.” He repeated before putting the rosary back beneath his shirt. “Come now, Magdalena. We mustn’t be late to supper with grandma. We’ll be back next Sunday, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.” She quipped, getting up and taking his hand again to make their way back to the car.

Nine Years Later…

“Shh… You’re going to get us caught!” Magdalena whispered in between kisses shared in a closet during her church’s youth group. Her hands wandered over their bare shoulders as kisses were peppered down her neck and to her chest. Her pale blue button up that was a part of her uniform was undone, halfway hanging off her slender frame.

“No one comes back here, Lena. It’s okay.” The voice replied, but they didn’t whisper. They had no secrets to hide. Their lips returned to Lena’s, young and greedy hands finding their way to places they shouldn’t be.

She felt like she was on cloud nine. She knew the sins she was committing as she slid completely out of her shirt, pulling off her rosary and letting it drop to the ground. She lifted herself up onto a table, it creaking loudly in protest as she hiked up her skirt and wrapped her legs around her lover’s waist. Hands then found themselves in unholy places for two teenagers. In the same breath that she moaned a familiar name, the closet door creaked open and the light cast a yellow glow over the two of them.

“Father!” Lena gasped, quickly scrambling out from underneath the other teenager to grab her shirt in order to protect what modesty she had left.

Adam stood in the doorway, taking in a deep breath before leaning down to pick up the rosary that had been his wife’s. He gave it to her recently on her sixteenth birthday. Magdalena stared at her father in fear, holding a hand out for the jewelry to be returned. In no moment’s hesitation, he shoved it into his own pocket before grabbing his daughter by the arm and pulling her from the closet.

“Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in the car.” His eyes burned holes into her soul. Holes deeper and hotter than any scorched before. As she hurried out of the room, Adam turned back to the other teen now quickly putting what clothes that had come off back onto their body. “As for you, Elizabeth–” He paused to take a deep breath. “I will be having a word with your parents. You will not taint my daughter and I will make sure of that.” He didn’t give the girl a chance to respond before turning away and slamming the closet door behind him.

Three Years Later…

It had been a year and a half since Magdalena decided to leave her hometown and go off to college. It had been something her father disapproved of and was the source of a lot of arguments. As heavy bass thumped through the walls of the college fraternity, she could remember the day the left like it was yesterday.

“If you leave, you are not welcome back here, Magdalena.” Her father stood between her and the front door.

She dropped her suitcase, going up to her father with a sneer painted across her face. “Why would I ever come back here? So I can join the stupid church and be daddy’s little girl– just too perfect to be full of so much sin? To speak words of love just to underline them with hate?” She shook her head as she went to grab her keys. “I hope I never see this town again. I hope I never see the people in it.”

Adam furrowed his brows in frustration. “This is not you!” He boomed, reaching out for her hand as he started to whisper the same prayer she heard every single time she made a mistake. Dear God, let my daughter repent her sins, but with about 100 more meaningless words.

Lena jerked away, picking her things back up. “Shut up! Do you think He hears you? Do you think He cares? A God that does what He does in this world is no God in my eyes. I don’t need your prayers. Now, let me go.” She pushed past him, yanking the door open and walking out.

“You’ll end up going to Hell, Lena! I am only trying to protect you!”

She laughed, making it to her car and tossing her things into the back. “Fuck you!” Were the last words she spoke to her father before leaving and they haven’t spoken since.

Now she sits between some guy and his girlfriend, sharing sloppy kisses and sips of vodka from plastic cups. Her breath could start a fire if you placed a match before it. She giggled as she pulled away pick up her now ringing phone. When she saw it was her father, she declined the call only to pull herself in closer to the girl next to her. It was then that her phone rang again, his face popping up to taunt her, and again, she ignored it. That was until about three more calls later. She got up, excusing herself to the backyard to answer her phone.

“Stop calling me! I told you I don’t want to ta–”

She was cut of by the muffled voice of her uncle. They had found her father in the church bathroom, a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head. He said that he left a note and told her when his funeral would be and before she hung up he said, “Just pray that your father makes it to his rightful destination. He was a good man. Pray he doesn’t end up going to Hell.”

Six Days Later…

The ivory casket lowered into freshly dug dirt. She could smell the Earth as it wafted through her senses. Her teeth clenched as they released the straps used to put her father in the ground. It was as if an iron rod were sliding down her throat, the overwhelming sensation of guilt burning all the way down into the pit of her stomach. She remembered when she was caught in the church closet and how the holes he stared into her were the worst at the time. Funny how she didn’t even know that on a scale that was only a five and this, well, you know how people save their tens. Tears threatened to leave her eyes, but she quickly slid on her over-sized sunglasses to hide the emotion.

“Now, if anyone would like to say a few words.” The pastor ended his prayer with the invitations, eyes looking in her direction. “Lena?”

It took her a moment, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Her voice cracked as she pushed her way through the small crowd of people. All she wanted to do was get away from the guilt that swam through her mind. It had all come to head and for the frist time, Magdalena truly felt that her father’s suicide had been her own doing. She was callous and cruel. She was disobedient and full of sin. He couldn't live with the thought of his ruined daughter and there was no one to blame but herself. 

Dearest Magdalena,

      I am so sorry to have failed you as a father. I failed in saving your mother, I failed at saving myself and most disappointingly, I failed saving you. Forgive me for this final, damning sin and just know that I will forever and always love you. Don’t pray for me. It is too late. However, it is not too late for you. Please save yourself like I never could. Goodbye my beautiful.

The words were memorized. Of course they were memorized. They could never not be permanently etched into brain and as they repeated themselves over and over again, she found herself at the local Gas ‘N Dash, slipping a couple mini bottles of Stoli into her dress pockets and her bra. She was careful not to let anyone see before grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the checkout. No one would question a grieving daughter whose father just ended his life in the town church.

She stepped outside after making her purchase and opened her water only to dump it out on the ground. A puddle formed around her feet until the plastic was empty. Then, she quickly got into her car, removing all the stolen bottles of liquor of refilling the bottle. Her car floor was littered with empty bottles and smelled of vodka and bile. It has been like this for so long that she didn’t even notice how bad it had gotten. All she could think about was the burn of the alcohol in her throat as she put the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. 

The Rest… 

It had been a week since Magdalena had been kicked out of school. Her grades had plummeted, she had too many absences and when she did show up to class it was either hungover or still intoxicated. The last straw was bringing a bottle of vodka to class, without switching it over to a water bottle first. She had all her things packed and the only place left to go was to her uncle’s house back in Wheeler, Indiana. He already had everything ready for her to go and somehow managed to convince her to go to AA meeting.

To her disbelief, the meetings worked and she was able to sober up with the support of her uncle. Then, she started going back to church on Wednesday… then, on Sundays and by the time she was twenty-three she was converted back to her religion and born anew.

She spent the next three years trying to become independent. She landed a job with the church, saving up enough money to move out on her own and finally be the adult she was meant to be. Her life was finally on the right track and she was doing a great job at keeping her demons hidden.

That was until Cassie went missing.

She had already felt herself slipping when all the chaos started, but upon hearing the news, something inside her snapped. She found herself going back to that place she was in after her father’s funeral, driving towards the place where it all started. She only went to get some coffee, too afraid to sleep. Then a mini bottle of Stoli caught her attention and the next thing she knew she was dropping the bottle and multiple other small items on the counter, hoping and praying the cashier didn’t notice and, from what she knows, they didn’t realize what she was doing.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 40

Chapter Summary -   The morning after the night before, Tom talks to Danielle with regards some of the concerns he discussed with Ben.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“Go back to sleep.” Tom groaned; his voice heavy with sleep.

“Can’t, the sun’s up.”

“So?”

“I’m going for a run.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t get to run most of the time now with work, I’m gaining weight.”

Tom rolled over and pulled Danielle to him. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” She scoffed. “So get off so you are not going out with a beached whale.”

“Elle.” There was a small hint of warning in his tone.

“What?”

“I need to talk to you later.” She turned to look at him properly, her fear blatant in her face. “Nothing bad, just, with me going away for a few weeks, I want to talk to you about stuff before I go.”

“Like what?”

“Just…” Tom forced himself to wake more, wishing he had not said anything until later, knowing she would not leave it rest until he said everything. “Are you happy with me?” Danielle stared at him silently, her face telling him her thoughts. “No, this is not me trying to break up with you, I want to be with you, I want us to last, but I need to talk to you about certain things, so I will ask again, are you happy with me?”

“Yes.” She answered immediately.

“As you are?”

“I don’t under…”

“You weren’t eating properly yesterday, and you seem very much hung up on the being called ‘wholesome’.”

“I…”

“Elle, be honest with me, please, tell me what you are thinking, I want this to work, please.”

“I have been overly busy with work, but yeah, the things they wrote, they hurt.” She stared at her hands. “I mean, I was never as thin as Swift, I am not anywhere near that body type, so I just…”

Tom took her hand in his and intertwined his fingers in hers. “You are far sexier than her. Have you not seen how I react to you? Twice yesterday, twice, and I can guarantee, there will be at least two or three more before my flight tomorrow.” He kissed her hand, causing her to smile.

“I thought men’s sex drive declined in their thirties?” She frowned.

“Not when we have sexy twenty-nine-year-old girlfriends with pert asses and glorious breasts.” He grinned again as he stared at her naked breasts, taking his lower lip in between his teeth as he did.

“Didn’t take you for a boob man.”

Tom’s eyebrow rose slightly. “Did you not? Well, that just proves I have not been giving these delectable things the attention they deserve.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and leant up to attack one with his lips, the other, he toyed with using his nimble fingers.

“Tom,” Elle gasped. “My training.”

“Fuck it, actually no, fuck me.”

“Insatiable.” She shook her head before moving herself around to straddle him, his lips making their way to her other nipple.

“You fucking love it.”

*

“So, have you used that bike a lot?” Danielle turned to see Ben making his way to her kettle.

“Not as much as I want, but as much as I can.” She smiled removing her helmet. “Did you sleep okay?”

“As well as one can when you are able to hear your friend and his girlfriend are at it like two Catholic rabbits from sundown to sun up.” Danielle blushed, causing him to chuckle. “I am simply teasing you.”

“I’ll tell Sophie you are being mean.”

“Hey, I said I was teasing, don’t set my wife on me.” She just laughed back. “She told me that you seemed better after talking to her, didn’t say what you spoke about, but said you seemed better about it all.”

“I am, she was a great help, thank you both for all of this.”

“Least I could do, you saved Tom from disaster after all.”

“You had a considerable part to play in that, in fact, I would think the credit for which goes to you.”

“I only continued what you started.” He grinned. “Where is the coffee kept?”

“Oh, here.” She turned and got it out of the cupboard over the kettle. “I keep all this stuff together.”

“That makes sense.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“No.”

She shook her head and laughed, “Bad form.”

He reached over her and grabbed two mugs, “Yeah, so where did Tom go?” Danielle stared at him. “About ten minutes after you two finished your fun this morning, you left, then a few minutes later, I heard him leaving.”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say anything to me about it.”

“Weird.”

“I would say he went to his mum’s, but he’s sort of hiding from her.”

Ben chuckled heartily. “I heard.”

Danielle groaned, her face turning red. “Seriously?”

“Yes, those two are worse than two American high school girls for telling each other their secrets,” Sophie commented coming into the room. “I am stealing that mattress.” She declared unashamedly as she grabbed a mug off her husband.

“Again with the stealing,” Benedict joked, rushing away before she could elbow him.

“How do you put up with him?” Danielle laughed.

“He makes good coffee.”

“A saving grace.”

The back door opened and Mac Tíre rushed in followed by Tom. “Everyone up?” he grinned, though his face was slightly red.

“Yeah, Ben fled the room after mocking Sophie again.” Danielle smiled as Tom came over and kissed her. “Over at your mum’s?”

“No, I went to the shop to get some more food, saw her there a moment ago, though.”

“I gathered as much.”

“What gave it away?”

“The flushed look around your ears saying she has mortified you in some way and the fact you are coming in the back.”

“You are very astute, but I forgot the spare key, that’s why I came round here.”

“I take pride in it. How is…what did she say?”

“She’s decided she is delighted about it, and told me not to be an ass to you.”

“Poor Diana, setting herself up for disappointment.” Elle joked as she made him a cup of tea.

“Hey! We are to go over when our guests are gone. Did you sleep well Sophie?” he asked, turning to give the other woman a peck on the cheek.

“I was just saying, that mattress is incredible, seriously, I am not leaving this house until you tell me where you got it, I am getting one. My back has been killing me with Kit wanting to be held most of the time and the baby weighing down the front, I feel better than I have in weeks.”

“I can honestly say it was comfy, now if you two weren’t waking me every five minutes swinging from the lights, I would have slept better,” Ben commented, after coming back into the room.

Danielle leant closer to Sophie as though “Prone to exaggerations, isn’t he?”

“A tad.” She agreed.

Danielle shook her head, “fucking actors.” Both men looked at her indignantly.

*

“Thank you both so much.” Danielle smiled as Ben gave her a kiss on the cheek before you turned to Sophie, who had just received similar from Tom. Before she could say anything, the older woman pulled her in and gave her and large hug. “Thank you.”

“You have my number, do not hesitate to call or text if you are feeling stressed about it all, am I clear?” Sophie smiled.

“Crystal.”

“Good,” She then turned back to Tom. “Mind her, she’s one of the good ones, don’t let them scare her off.”

“I don’t plan on it,” He grinned goofily, looking at Danielle.

“We’ll see you two soon, this was actually really nice.”

“We’ll have to do the second leg in Tom’s.” Danielle smiled, causing Ben to cock his head slightly, not knowing what she was saying. “Never mind, soccer reference.” She dismissed. “Private School boys.”

“Technically it is a public school, not private.” Ben pointed out.

“In Ireland, it’s the other way around.” Danielle waved as they got into the car and left. “Well, that went well,” She beamed before looking around to see Tom looking at her with an unreadable expression. “What?”

“Nothing, I am just admiring you.”

“Weirdo.” She laughed before heading for the door and walking back into the kitchen to clean up the breakfast ware.

“You ate properly at breakfast.” Tom wrapped his arms around her as she put ware in the sink.

“Well, I am being forced to burn more calories than I care to of late.”

“Really?”

“Yes, someone is at me like a, what was it Ben said, a Catholic bunny.”

“I cannot and will not apologise for finding my significant other sexually enticing,” Tom growled against her neck.

“What?”

“Hmm?”

“You are thinking about something, what is it?” she turned to look at him.

“You are too astute.”

“So you said already, what is it, Tom?” she seemed nervous. “Is it to do with before?”

Tom cupped her face in his hands and thought about what he wanted to say, he didn’t want to scare her off, but he knew he had to make some of his thoughts clear. “I really want this to work.”

“Good; that tends to be a required step in getting it to.” She smiled. “I do too, by the way.”

“I know my work takes me away for bouts of time, but promise you’ll tell me if I am not there enough for you, or if I am suffocating you when I am.”

“Tom,” she played with the collar of his shirt. “Our jobs are hard work, you have to go away, I have to go away, but it is not impossible, there is email, texts, calls, video calling and even writing letters if all technology fails, alright? As long as we talk and let it all hang out there, we know where we stand and we can work on it.”

“You are too young to be this clued in.”

“I’m thirty soon, God I’m getting old.”

“Thirty is not old.”

“No compared to you, maybe.” She dashed off before her words registered, but had only made it to the staircase before Tom came running out into the hallway. Even taking the steps two at a time, her previous exercise and her shorter stature allowed him to catch her as soon as they made it upstairs.

“Apologise.” He growled, pulling her to the carpeted floor of the upstairs hallway.

“Never!” She laughed, erupting in hysterical fits as he tickled her. “No.”

“Yes, I am going to have you beg for mercy.”

“How, did she leave a CD in your mum’s you are going to force me to listen to?” she grinned.

Tom paused for a moment before laughing himself. “That is terribly mean.”

“But true.” She argued, leaning on one arm next to him. “She is a terrible singer.”

“And you have a terrible habit of dragging her up today.”

“You’re right.” She conceded, sighing loudly as she did, “I let her get into my head and that’s a stupid thing to do, I should just forget about her.”

“Please do.” Tom smiled slightly. “I know it’s entirely my fault, but I don’t want you dragging yourself to her level.”

“You’d need a fracking permit to go that far sub terrain.”

“Elle!” he was trying to get her to stop focusing on Taylor but was forced to laugh at her comment. “You are fucking vicious when you want to be.”

“I need to rein it in, though, I think Luke is less than impressed by it.”

“Just rein it in when in public, never change yourself in private, I want this you, forever.”

“Forever is a long time, Tom.”

“Good, I want you like this for a long time.” He kissed her chastely.

“Is that what you have done?” Tom pulled back slightly and frowned at her. “Hardened yourself to the world. I always wondered why the Tom I know is not the Tom that I see on TV anymore.”

“I had to, everyone in the industry has to harden up, it will swallow you whole if you don’t. You will too, out there. Sophie had to with Ben.”

“Do you think I can?”

“Yes, that night of our meal, they pushed and antagonised you, but you did not give them anything, that is what you need to do. They will push more, harass you more, but if you stay like that, they can’t get you. They will get bored and move on to someone else, if they smell blood, they’ll hang around, if not, they’ll go elsewhere to forage scraps.” She nodded solemnly. “I wish I did not drag you into this. I wish we were just normal, nine to five workers, no paps, no crazy fan girls.”

“No, you don’t. That’s not you Tom, you are an actor, not as just a career, but as a person, the way you bring life to a character that is nothing more than words on paper, the amount of yourself you put into a role; that is why they adore you. There are so many good looking actors out there, but all they get is a ‘damn, he’s sexy’ but you, they feel like you are more than that, that you are something special, and that is why.” She kissed him quickly before continuing. “You are not a nine to five person; that life would crush you, it’s not you, so many do it well and like it, but it’s not you. I hate knowing sooner or later I will be the focus of some less than lovely articles, but I would not change you for the world, that’s why I am so willing to try this, I want to be with you, and if it means lowlife’s trying to photograph me, or silly girls on the internet declaring I’m not good enough for you, then it’s the price I have to pay, everything in life costs us something, this is my fee.”

Tom swallowed hard. “Talking to Sophie really helped?” he realised.

“It did.”

“What do you think of what they have?”

“Ben and Sophie?” Tom nodded. “They seem genuinely happy, genuinely comfortable together. They should be envied, rather than ridiculed, though, in truth, that is probably why they are, people are jealous of what they don’t have and they make dirty comments about them because of it.”

“Would you like to be like them someday?”

There was a nervousness in his voice that Danielle copped immediately. “With you?” his eyes finally met hers, and in the steel blue of his irises, she could see his hope blatantly as he nodded his response. “Yes,” she nodded, “I think I would.”

[phantomphangphucker]

A King For Tonight’s Fentertainment - Chap. 6: This Ones Already Had The Fight Taken Out Of His Bite

Summary:  As expected, the GIW are still idiots. As expected, Vlad was up to shit. And Danny wouldn't be Danny if he didn't get hurt at some point.

Danny snaps his head to the side, his mom whirling around, as a heavily bleeding Vlad Plasmius staggers away from a building. Sam and Tucker both slide off Danny, Sam crossing her arms and Tucker pointing with mock aggression at Plasmius. While Maddie pulls out and points an ectoblaster, Danny tilts his head back and groans. Groans loud enough to make everyone still around look at him, confused. Danny speaks loudly at the sky, “now what the hell? This is just brilliant”.

Tilting his head back down towards Plasmius as Danny forms a shield behind himself, easily deflecting an ectoshot from one of the GIW agents. Danny doesn’t even acknowledge their little attempt before addressing Plasmius. Taking in the older halfas ectoplasm splattered form, “the fucks got you lookin like rats were gnawing at you, like the cheese head you are, for weeks?”.

Plasmius grumbles and glares at Danny, “well let’s see, an entire city was dropped on my head after getting damn well blinded by a portal the size of an absurdist supernova”.

Danny barks out a single laugh before glaring right back, “exaggeration. But better question, why are you here”.

“You say that like it’s an accusation of guilt”.

“With you, it always is”, Danny steps forward, putting himself in front of his friends, while his mom goes and socks agent L in the face for trying to shoot her son. Danny smirks as he overhears her growl, “you were warned”, before Danny snaps at Plasmius, “what were you doing, old man”.

Danny doesn’t even have to wait for a response as agent G gives him what he was asking for, like a complete idiot; which is pretty expected from one of them. Agent G points at Plasmius, slightly surprised, “you! You’re the ectoentity the commander followed to those powder canisters! We destroyed you!”. The agent rubs his face, looking and sounding a bit manic, “you, you tricked us?! So we’re not at fault! We’re not at fault! Hahaha”.

Danny sighs, “figures”, Danny points over his shoulder at the laughing, and potentially brain-damaged, agent, “I think ya broke him Vladdie”.

Plasmius huffs before attempting to fly off, preferring to avoid the young badgers' wrath while being in this weakened state. Though he gets yanked out of his mental mussing about Daniels absurd, yet so often untapped, power. When he gets shot by a high power ectocannon, too injured to really do anything other than flop unceremoniously on the ground.  

Danny facepalmed as soon as Maddie got off the shot, pushing his hand into his face even more aggressively as she snaps, “ghost! So this was your fault! You ectoplasmic waste of human post consciousness!”. While agent L groans on the ground and agent G is still lost to his bout of lunacy.

Sam and Tucker both give Danny glances of pity while he sighs, “and we were starting to get somewhere...”. Both of them cringe and facepalm themselves, as they hear Danny push his hand into his face so hard that he breaks his nose.

Danny blinks as blood drips down his face and off his chin, “well that’s a first. I have officially had a day that has finally heaped on enough bullshit to become worthy of accidental self-harm, that wasn’t caused by some fight shit”.

“Or you forgetting where you’re walking”.

“Or you holding knives wrong”.

“Or you swallowing solid objects”.

“Or you-”.

Danny cuts his friends off, “I get it!”. Whipping his arm across his nose, and hand down his face. Mostly just smearing it around rather than effectively wiping it off. Adjusting his nose bones so it actually heals right, before walking behind Maddie; whose got her gun cannon blaster thing, with some name Danny didn’t bother memorising, pressed into Plasmius chest. “Uh, could you, like, not?”, Danny sighs as he stands behind his mom, looking down at her kneeling form before she aggressively jabs a small ectogun into Plasmius head.

Plasmius, meanwhile, is staring, mouth slightly ajar, at Daniel prancing around in his kings-wear in town with blood streaked on his face.

Danny sighs again, pinching a bit of his moms' suit around her wrist and lifting her arm/hand up. Relieving the ectoguns pressure on Plasmius head. While Maddie just blinks at her son’s hand, thrown off by the show of strength. Danny leans forward to have his face in front of Plasmius’s, frowning, “what’s up Vampy. Now I really don’t doubt you had some hand or bullshit in this, so what the hell could you have to possibly gain by getting those twats to powder-fuck everything to the Ghost Zone. I mean, certainly, the town squashing you under its heel wasn’t the goal”, Danny gives a shit-eating grin, blood tracing over some of his teeth and lips, “you’re not that much of a masochistic glutton for punishment”.

Vlad glares, looking slightly disgusted, “that wasn’t the goal at all Daniel”. Danny and Maddie easily hear him grumble, “only you were meant to be sent off, but those fools probably messed that up”.

Danny straightens up and laughs, exaggeratedly wiping away a fake tear only to accidentally smear blood around his eye, “oh wow! What’d you expect? That’s practically their job!”. Danny leans back down and pats Plasmius mockingly on the cheek, “but naw, shits all on you. You frootloopy fuck”, standing back up and shrugging exaggeratedly, “they explained how the stuff’s supposed to work and really, there’s no way it wouldn’t have sent everything to High Hell. I mean, Ancients, you can’t teleport a lair keeper out of their own lair that way. You’ll just ass fuck off the whole damn place. Like really, this level of stupid isn’t becoming, or whatever, of you, Batshit”.

Plasmius mutters, “I swear he's going out of his way to make up as many insulting names for me as possible”. Plasmius clears his throat while Danny chuckles, “well duh. You are completely deplorable”.

Plasmius forces down a wince as Maddie pushes the gun further into his stomach, “answer my son, you ectoscum”.

Danny walks off slightly to grab a bit of debris while Plasmius responds to her, “now Maddie, I’m sure we can be-”, only to be cut off by Danny dropping a rather large chunk of cement on his head. While both Sam and Tucker fall over laughing, Dash and Kwan both gape.

Kwan stutters, “s-so he c-can fight back, heh”. Dash grumbling mockingly, “what, does ‘his highness’ think I’m not worth the effort”. Both boys jump as Danny snaps his head around, talking with a wide grin, “yup. That about sums it up”.

“Why you little!-Fentax!”.

Danny ignores the two boys as Kwan holds Dash back, “dude, are you insane? Pretty sure he’s about to give a freaking ghost a verbal lashing...not to mention that he’s just ignoring the blood on his face”.

“Soooo”, Danny taps at his chin, “my mom could just shoot you....again. Not really sure why she’s not”. Maddie doesn’t even take her eyes off Plasmius as she responds, “because, I want answers for why the hell some ghost is toying with my boy”. Both Plasmius and Danny blink at her before Danny slowly lifts up a bit of his cape and slowly looks down at it, “uh....I think the why goes without saying at this point”.

Maddie just growls at Plasmius, who gulps faintly.

Danny rolls his eyes, muttering, “and everyone calls me out for being a growly little shit. Eh, whatever”. Danny glances around discreetly, only Sam and Tucker are actually closely watching him at this point; though there’s definitely a good portion of the town watching this little ‘conversation’.

Danny leans down, getting his face up in Plasmius’s; enough so that no one else’s could see Danny’s face and so Plasmius could definitely smell the blood, Danny doesn’t make a habit of assuming everyone else’s senses were as good as his own. Letting his eyes change to green and blaze with threatening energy, his crown also blazing threateningly, as he pats Plasmius chest just below his neck and above the barrel of his moms ectocannon thing. “Now now, no need for all that tension. You’ll throw your back out, old fart. Now what to do about this little transgression against my homely home. I’m sure you are aware that doing such against the whole of someone’s lair is rather, heh, problematic”, Danny grins devilshily, pushing his fingers hard enough to bruise Plasmius collar bone, “especially mine. I am rather...protective. And you are irking that”.

Plasmius pales a bit, getting on the bad side of any ghosts, half-ghost or not, obsession wasn’t really smart. Especially on such large, even if accidental, scale. Not to mention that Daniel has clearly had some secret or another ousted.

Plasmius promptly stiffens and clenches his teeth as Danny condenses ectoplasmic energy around his core and pulses it, disrupting Plasmius’s core just enough to be extremely unpleasant and painful. Maddie backs off slightly, unsure of what’s going on, as Plasmius grits out, “point taken... your majesty”.

Danny closes his eyes and pats Plasmius chest above his core, making the guy wince, “oh now that’s a rare thing, getting you to not sound like a pompous conniving twat”. Danny grabs Plasmius’s arm as he stands up, dragging Plasmius off the ground while opening a portal. Smirking at the barely standing man before tossing Plasmius in, “enjoy the snow tundras! I’m pretty sure Kempler's favourite show just ended! Be a dead dear and cheer him up for me!”.

Danny laughs, closing the portal to the sounds of crying and screaming.

“You just...let him go?”, Danny turns around to his moms disbelievingly comment. While she yelps, “sweetie! Your face!”.

Danny smears his arm under his nose again, flicking off bits of slightly dried blood, before sighing, “it’s fine, I’m fine, we're all fine. Well, Plasmius is not. And I wouldn’t say ‘let him go’. No, in his state he won’t be getting away for a day or two. And frankly”, Danny intentionally shudders for comedic effect, “I’d rather be beaten within an inch of my life than be stuck with Kempler for even an hour”.

Sam and Tucker walk over, grumbling.

“I’d rather watch someone vore a damn spork, again, and still use it to eat a pound of flowers. For two hours. While frequently re-swallowing the spork”.  

“I’d rather eat that pound of flowers”.

Danny taps his chin and grins devilishly, “I’ll keep that in mind next time you steal the game controllers, Tuck”. Now it’s Tucker’s turn to pale, “please don’t”. Sam smirks, “please do”.

Danny puts his hands behind his head, looking at the sky, while Sam and Tucker go off at each other. Until Maddie tugs on his arm sleeve, “hmm?”, tilting his head down, “uh, what is it, mom?”.

Maddie pulls out a handkerchief and starts cleaning Danny’s face off. Danny grimaces, “mooooom!”, but lets her clean him off. Maddie grumbles about shooting whoever hurt her boy, eliciting Sam to chuckle, “you better not shoot Danny”. Maddie squints incredulously at Danny who blushes slightly, “there was just such a level of stupidity and bullshit that my hand just had to face fuck me”. Tucker smirks, “aka, you’re too strong for your body”.

“Shhhhhh”, Danny goes to place a bloody finger over Tucker’s lips but Tucker bats it away disgustedly.

Maddie, meanwhile, fiddles with the ruined square of fabric before glancing at the ground where the ghost had been, “sweetie, all of that was...kind of...threatening. And why’d that creature stiffen like that?”.

“Heh, well I was hurting him. That’s kind of how people, ghost or human, react to pain”, Danny rubs his neck, ignoring his moms surprised expression, “normally I wouldn’t be so harsh but well, that one never learns and is far more of a thorn in my side than most”.

“So you’ve ‘interacted’ a lot then”.

“Yeah and um-”, Danny cuts himself off and whirls around to the two agents trying to sneak off, “oh no, I don’t think so. I’m not about to give y’all lowkey heart attacks but...”, Danny trails off as he runs off after the, now fleeing, men.

Tucker chuckles, “so that’s what he did”. Spotting Maddie looking towards him with a curious expression, he sighs. Sam elbows him, whispering, “that’s what you get for opening your trap”.

“Tucker, what do you mean? Giving someone a heart attack isn’t possible, especially a ghost. Darn things are completely heartless”.

Tucker puts his hands up, “look, Ms. F. We’re all kind of tired of the anti-ghost stuff”. Sam butts in, “especially Danny”, Sam grumbles to herself, “but Danny won’t ring her out too much for it, he’s too kind for that”. Tucker chuckles, “yeah. Though, like really cut it out. But...that is possible, the giving heart attacks thing, for Danny anyway. He can pretty well do anything. But core attack is more accurate here”.

“Core attack?”.

“Yup! Don’t ask me how really. But...he vibrates the ghosts core in a way that messes it up for a beat. We’ve seen him pull that before, pretty well incapacitates ghosts from the pain alone. Though-”, Tucker gets cut off by a snowball to the head.

Danny walks up dragging two unconscious agents, glaring with a slight amount of humour, “Tuck, do you ever know when to shut the fuck up? I could do WITHOUT hunters, even if one is my mom, getting any more funny ideas”. All three of them look down at the men as Danny drops them on the ground. Tucker pointing at them and raising an eyebrow. Danny rubs his neck, “they looked behind them while running, slammed into a wall. Ate dirt, choked on concrete, gargled marble, and last but not least, face fucked stone”. Kicking agent L, “this guy broke his nose”, kicking agent G, “this one managed to both shatter his eye socket and dislocate his jaw”. Looking back up at the three and shrugging, “reformed G’s eye socket but L can live with the nose deformation. All in all, I think they punished themselves”.

“Sooo, what are we going to do with them, dude?”.

“What do you mean by not wanting hunters to have more information? Danny...”.

Danny internally groans at his moms' tone, rubbing his neck, “I’m the king of ghosts mom, having more information out there that could harm them or the Ghost Zone is not something I want. That’s kinda the opposite of good”. Turning to his friends, smirking, “this”.

They’re only confused for a second until a pissed off looking taxi driver pulls up, stopping so that Danny can toss the men into the taxi trunk. Danny chuckles as the taxi speeds off, “that’s gonna be a long and cramped ride, dude pretty well swore to everything that he’d make it the bumpiest ever”.

Sam and Tucker both nod, “good”. Sam turns to Maddie, “so, you’re not going to give Danny a hard time about all of”, gesturing to Danny’s cape and crown, “this? Are you?”. Danny tilts his head to the side and grumbles, “only for, like, the past forever”.

But Danny’d rather not have Sam and his mom go bickering about shit, so he straightens up some, “anyway uh, it’s late and shit so I vote for letting me embrace my bed”.

Tucker snickers, “like you’re actually gonna sleep”.

“I can try can’t I?”.

Sam elbows Tucker, “lucky Mr. Royal bombastic over here hardly needs it”. Danny groans, “tell me about it! I’d be even more dead on my feet!”.

Maddie raises an eyebrow but Danny grabs her wrist, “so home!”. Waving at Sam and Tucker as he practically drags Maddie home. Maddie watching where she steps so as to not trip on Danny’s cape, while Sam and Tucker exchange slightly worried glances.

[writehardwhumpharder]

OC drabble - nightmares and fluff

So this isn't whumpy and therefore, not very interesting to most of you but I wrote a little drabble about Carson staying at Daniel's parents' house for Thanksgiving and he sneaks into Daniel's room to sleep because he's afraid of having nightmares if he's alone and that would be super embarrassing.

When Carson agreed to go to Daniel's parents' house for Thanksgiving, it never really occurred to him that they'd be staying the night. Sure the house was plenty big for everyone, built to accommodate four kids, and it was only an hour north in Poughkeepsie. But that wasn't what Carson was worried about.

As he laid down on the blow-up mattress set-up in the study and closed his eyes to go to sleep, it suddenly occured to him. The nightmares, the very loud, wake up everyone in the house kind of nightmares. Thanksgiving was tomorrow so he couldn't chicken out now and take a cab home, but he couldn't go to sleep either knowing what might happen. He'd come to terms with them a long time ago and Carson was no longer afraid to close his eyes at night. The embarrassment of waking up Daniel's whole family at who knows what hour like a child was a whole different story.

Sitting up in bed, Carson flicked on the lamp and rummaged around in his bag for the book he brought. Can't have nightmares if I don't go to sleep, he reasoned. But about 30 minutes into that plan when his eyes started closing involuntarily he realized that wasn't going to work. He blinked aggressively as the text blurred on the page. Maybe some music would help.

Carson found his headphones and started listening to some alternative rock, hoping the chaotic sound would wake him up a bit. He laid back, staring up at the ceiling. Would everyone notice how tired he looked tomorrow? The dark circles under his eyes couldn't get much worse than the already were. It wasn't long before his thoughts started dissolving into sleep, even the loud music blaring in his ears got warped, sounding farther and farther away. His eyes snapped open with a start. Can't... can't fall asleep....

Carson slapped himself in the face and turned on his phone. Unsure of what else to do he texted Daniel, "are you awake?"

"Yeah, why?" He responded. Carson didn't bother to reply and instead opened the door to the study as quietly as possible then tip-toed down the hall to Danny's room, praying to god the whole way that the old floorboards wouldn't squeak. When he went to knock on the door though something stopped him. He put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Who really needs sleep, right? Not me." He said to himself. Carson started pacing quietly outside his door as he hugged his pillow tight to his chest. Torn between making Daniel get up and simply going back to his own room to suffer alone, Carson stood in the hall for a long five minutes. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, inching closer to the door.

"Just do it, Carson." He raised his hand to knock again but stopped in his tracks at the sound of a door opening. He cursed himself silently and slowly turned to face them, "please don't be his parents, please don't be his parents."

Jason stepped out of his room with a toothbrush and contact lens case in his hand, clearly headed to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. Carson froze in place and looked down, then back at the door. He knew what it looked like.

"Oh hey Carson, you're up late," he said, leaning on his doorframe. Though his tone was casual a smug look spread across his face. He eyed Daniel's door in suspicion, "did you need something?"

Carson felt his face heat up, "oh, uh, I was just gonna ask for another blanket." He lied terribly. The pillow he was holding really didn't help. Nor did the fact that he really was planning on sleeping in Danny's room.

"Oh, well why didn't you just say so? The linen closet is right here, I'll show you," Jason said teasingly. He turned to walk down the hall to the closet and bathroom, testing his commitment to the lie. Carson kept his feet planted firmly in place.

"No, thanks." He said, hoping Jason would just leave it at that. But of course he couldn't.

"You're right, I bet Danny has plenty of blankets in there he'd be happy to share with you." Jason smirked.

"Don't you have to brush your teeth or something?" Carson snapped. Jason held up his hands in mock surrender and sauntered off in the direction of the bathroom.

Danny's door cracked open, "Ugh, is he gone?" He asked. Carson nodded and Daniel didn't wait another moment to pull him in and close the door behind them before the situation could get any more awkward.

It was dark inside the room and Carson felt a pain of guilt. He had woken him up. Again. How many hours of sleep has he missed because of him? Too many, Carson decided.

"Is there another leak in the air mattress?" Danny asked with concern, eyeing the pillow in Carson's hands.

"Um no, the mattress is fine, it's just..." Carson started. God this is so embarrassing. He sighed deeply and sat down on the bed next to Danny. You know what? It's stupid. I'll just go back to my room, sorry for waking you up." Carson hung his head and made for the door but Danny grabbed his arm to stop him.

"You wake me up all the time and I haven't complained yet. What is so different about tonight?" Danny asked.

"Well let's see, your entire family is here!" Carson whisper-yelled and gestured wildly to all the surrounding bedrooms.

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of that," Danny said, running his fingers through his hair. "You know you don't have to worry about it, no one is gonna be mad at you."

Carson nodded his head but wasn't very reassured. "Just forget it. I'm sure nothing will happen." Carson said, ready to go back to plan A. The only way to really guarantee that he won't wake up screaming when he inevitably falls into the deep dark, abyss of death that Carson is all too familiar with.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"To bed?" Carson replied.

"Just stay here."

Carson stood halfway between the bed and door, a little conflicted. He already felt bad enough. Maybe it would be better just stay in his room. It's probably a lot more comfortable too... and there is plenty of space.

Daniel let go of his arm and got back under the covers, patting the opposite side expectantly. As weird as he felt doing it, sleeping next to Daniel really did put him at ease so he reluctantly put down his pillow and laid down. They kept a careful distance from each other as they fell asleep.

--

Carson walked down the street to his old apartment building like he did every day. His dreams hadn't quite caught up to the fact that he moved recently. An intersection came up ahead and he stopped, waiting for the road to clear. That's when it happened. The sidewalk started to crack around him, pieces falling away until the ground he stood on dropped beneath him. He felt his stomach climb up into his throat as his body went into free fall. What waited below was an inky darkness. But it wasn't normal a normal kind of dark. The blackness was alive somehow, thick, and ready to consume anything that fell into it. The air turned cold, making the hair on his neck stand on end. Carson could feel it, the presence of death. And he couldn't rationalize it, couldn't convince himself that it was just a dream, because he's seen it countless times before and he knows it's real. Some day he'll fall into the abyss and never come back out. Maybe there is something better on the other side of the black hole but to get there you have to cross through a vast, neverending, emptiness. It made him feel so helpless, so alone, so terrified.

He flailed his arms around to catch something, anything, to stop his fall. And just as he was about to start screaming for help, his hand caught something next to him. It felt solid and real.

Carson blinked his eyes open and the darkness in his dream was replaced by the darkness in Daniel's room. As his eyes adjusted he could make out the shapes around him and he looked over to see that what he'd grabbed onto was Daniel's arm, who was still peacefully asleep. Leaning his head back down on his pillow Carson waited for his heartrate to go back down and breathing to get steady. It wasn't long before he dozed off again, still holding on tight.

--

Daniel awoke was a start when something hit his face. He looked around wildly until his eyes locked on Jason leaning into his room. Before he could fully process what was going on Jason threw another small decorative pillow at him as hard as he could knowing full well that Daniel was already awake.

Jason nodded towards Carson who was curled up on his side in the exact middle of the bed, his personal space long abandoned. "It's almost six and if you don't want to get caught it's time for him to go. Mom and Dad will be getting up soon."

"Mmm," Daniel groaned sleepily, "why are you up so early?"

Jason stretched dramatically, "well you see, unlike some people I'm still young and healthy so I don't need as much sleep." He said, taking full advantage of his role as the youngest sibling as always.

"Thanks. Now get out," Danny replied, throwing one the pillows back at him. Jason dodged it expertly and shut the door. Carson didn't wake up completely but Daniel did manage to rouse him enough to send him back to the study.

Carson got back in bed, a little disappointed that it was freezing cold in comparison. That night he'd slept more soundly than, well, ever. And in his sleep impaired mind he thought to himself, "I could get used to that."

[loki-fanfic-whore]

Monochromia ch.1

Warnings: Yo! This is a raw, and really fucked up piece. It has gore, blood, suggestive language, triggering phrases, pain, suffering,self hate, possible sexual situations, possible noncon, homicidal tendencies, cannibalism, self harm tendencies, and bad grammar.

You have been warned!

@drakesfiance

Chapter 1 Green

The sickening snap filled the quiet air as I twisted the rabbits neck. I was feral with hunger at this point and it was either snap a rabbit's neck or a human's. I bit into the soft flesh and tasted the sweet meaty color.

White. Pink. Red.

My eyes were black with white irises. My teeth when I was rabid were jagged blade like fangs. And my body was frail and thin. Guant and emaciated due to my refusing to feed.

I am a monster, and I hate myself for it.

Dusk cast hazy shadows along the snow as my head snapped up, my hearing picking up foot steps close by.

I sprinted towards safety, the limp soft body of the rabbit still flopping about in my mouth. I hated what I had become.

Have you ever realized how lucky you are? The words blue, green, red, and yellow elicit different images for you. Beautiful skies, daffodils, strawberries, the list goes on...but me?

I am a monster...I suffer from what is called Monochromia. I cannot see any color. Strawberries are the same shade of grey as the sky. Blood the same hue as bone.

...but...

I'm a monster because I can't see colors....

I can taste them.

Seven years ago, I felt normal. I felt like I had a routine...you see I would starve myself...not in a "I wanted to be thinner" kind of way, but in a "whenever I'm hungry someone dies" kind of way... every night when the hunger pains would hit I would ensure everyone's safety by locking myself away....this had worked for years. I sustained myself on small rations of animals. All different colors flooded my system, and kept me half full for a few weeks.

This system worked until someone became too curious.

He had acted on a dare to see if the house I stayed in was truly haunted... he made the mistake of opening my door just as the hunger pains hit.

He tasted like the most exquisite shade of green.

Now, seven years after that incident. I'm on the run, being hunted and frankly...I'm Starving...

Slamming the door shut in the empty abandoned house. I sank down to the ground and began consuming the rabbit with a hunger that hurt me.

I was lucky this time...previously I had had no such luck...seven years ago was when my luck had run out.

"Come on Daniel do it! Go inside and get a souvenir!" The young girls were taunting that boy again. He couldn't have been no older than seventeen and yet he accepted their dare.

The sun had gone down and my hunger pains were insatiable. I had locked myself away strapping my delicate body down. I could smell him as he approached my house. Green....he smelled like green. Refreshing, mouth watering green.

I could feel my body twisting and shifting. The monster was waking up and was in a frenzy for food.

"H-Hello?" I heard his voice and hissed. He couldn't come in. Surely he understood the rumors.

A monster lived here....I lived here.

"Please...I just need to take a photo to prove no one is here!" He laughed nervously and my stomach rumbled...yes...green...delicious juicy green.

I heard the door knob click as it twisted.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I need this. I need you to let me devour you.

The door swung open and the boy stepped in and gasped.

"Jesus christ let me help you!" He stumbled over and began untying me.

Yes. Perfect. I needed to feel your flesh sliding down my throat.

I wanted to taste green.

As soon as my hands were free I sat up and grabbed him by his throat, my thumbs pressing into his delicate skin.

"Please-" he gasped but it was too late. I crushed his windpipe and bit into his throat. The taste made my eyes roll back into my skull.

Perfectly delicious green.

They came looking for him...and I ate every last one. Purple, blue, red...I ate them all and they were good. Mouth wateringly so.

Now it's been almost seven years and since the disappearances the townspeople burned my home down. To 'rid them of the monster', little did they know they just pushed me further into their homes. I would switch between several different abandoned properties just to stay under the radar.

"Hello?" A males deep voice rang out and I froze, my mouth full of the delectable white and red...but I smelled him. It had been years but I could smell it.

Green.

"My name is Loki, I was told their is a viscous beast here. I wanted to see for myself. Anyone here to meet me?"

Yes. I am here. And I want to devour you whole.

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 97: Once in a Lullaby

Regina and Daniel arrived back at the stables, following another ride. They dismounted and she watched him take the saddles off their horses.

"Another successful lesson," she mentioned. He smiled.

"Please...you are beyond needing lessons," he said fondly. She smiled coyly.

"Then I guess it's the company that keeps me coming back," she teased, as she put her arms around him. He smiled and put her arms around him, initiating a kiss with her.

"Let's run away," Regina suggested.

"You know we can't," he responded.

"Yes, we can...there's really nothing for me here. A life with you is all I want," she insisted.

"I have nothing to give you but my love…" she reminded.

"And your love is all I need," she said.

"You're a Princess...your mother would never stop looking for us," he warned.

"Then we'll leave the Kingdom and go somewhere she can't find us," Regina replied.

"Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly. She nodded.

"My parents will soon start offering me up to suitors. I'm surprised they haven't already and I will not marry someone I don't love like some business transaction," she said defiantly. He had to agree with her there. It would kill him to see her treated like that and he knew that was the future for most royals.

"Then pack and meet me here tonight. We'll leave just after midnight," he agreed. She grinned and kissed him soundly again, before hurrying back toward the palace with a bright smile on her face. As she passed through the barn doors, she failed to see Zelena there, concealing herself at the entrance, having been spying on them. She had come to summon Regina at her mother's request, only to find her in the arms of the stable boy and hearing him declare his love for her. It instantly made her jealous and she was unaware of the sudden green skin on her neck, as she scowled.

Zelena had long ago known that love wasn't in her future and for the most part, she was okay with that, for her mother had drilled into her that love was weakness. But to find out that her younger sister had already found love and might escape this life of duty and responsibility to be free made her extremely jealous. It caught her off guard a bit, as she realized that Regina being happy while she was decidedly chronically unhappy and likely to remain so didn't set well at all. And as Zelena stormed back to report to her mother, she decided that her little sister wasn't going to get away with her treachery.

~*~

Once they got far enough from Longbourne, they stopped by a stream to let Stardust and Wilby drink, while they drank some water themselves.

"Here," David said, as he fished some berries out of his satchel and handed them to her. She frowned.

"I ate some berries the other day and got really sick," she mentioned skeptically.

"Let me guess...blue ones?" he asked. She nodded.

"I'm surprised you're still alive after eating the blue ones, but I promise the red ones are safe to eat," he said, popping one in his mouth to show her. Since he was eating them, she trusted that and had some too.

"So...why did you save me?" she asked. She may have been a bit sheltered, but she knew enough about the world, thanks to Papa Hades mostly, that there were a lot of bad people out there. Like the Woodcutter and more that wouldn't have been able to resist the riches Arawn was promising for her capture.

"It seemed like the honorable thing to do. Besides, you said you're innocent," he replied.

"And you believe me?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"You don't seem like the type capable of stabbing someone in cold blood," he retorted.

"I'm not...but that doesn't mean I'm not capable of defending myself," she warned. She didn't want him to see her as some weak little Princess. It was a misconception that her kindness meant she was weak and nothing could have been further from the truth.

"Uh yeah...my chin found that out," he joked, as he pointed to the scratch there and she winced.

"How very Charming of you to point it out again," she complained. He chuckled.

"No hard feelings," he replied and she smirked.

"So what are you doing way out here, Charming?" she asked.

"I have a name you know," he replied.

"Don't care...Charming suits you," she retorted and he chuckled.

"My name is David and that is Wilby," he said, as his dog was curled up beside her.

"Hello Wilby," she said, as she continued to pet him and then stole another glance at her handsome rescuer. As long as she was with him though, he was in danger.

"I should probably get out of your hair now," she mentioned.

"Wait...where will you go?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I'll hide until my mother can find me. With a war going on though...their time will not be their own," she feared.

"You could come back with me. My mothers would never turn you away and our farm is pretty secluded. You'd be safe until your mother can find you," he offered.

"And what would your mothers think about you bringing home a wanted fugitive?" Snow questioned. He smirked.

"They'd take you in like their own, because that's how they are. You know, my mama Sera once had to escape an Evil King to save her own life. She's a lot like you," he mentioned. Snow seemed intrigued by that.

"Your mother was once a royal?" she asked.

"My biological mother's wife...yes. She was once a Queen, but she couldn't have children and the King had her taken away. The Kingdom was told she was ill, but his Knights were to execute her," he explained.

"And she escaped?" Snow asked. He nodded.

"With the help of one Knight that still remained loyal to her. He helped her escape and convinced the other Knights that he had carried out her execution. She escaped to her family estate. Then a few years later...she met my mother in the market. We had just left my drunk father. Mama Sera took us in and they fell in love," he replied.

"That's a wonderful story," Snow said, enamored by it.

"So what do you say?" he asked.

"I wouldn't want to impose," she replied uncertainly.

"You wouldn't be. If it makes it better, you can help my mothers and me with the chores for a room. We have some chickens and a few other animals. Mother knits blankets and Mama Sera is really good at making pottery. I was selling their goods in Longbourne," he said. Snow smiled. She didn't know why, but somehow she knew she could trust him and it was more than he had just saved her life.

"If you're sure...then I accept. I'm sure my mother will find me soon and it will be easier for her if I stay in one place," she replied. He smiled.

"Good...if we leave now, we'll be home in time for supper," he said, as he helped her onto Stardust, put Wilby on with her and then got on behind her, before they rode off again.

~*~

Prince James glared at the King and his Knights. Arawn's army was twice the size of theirs and their Kingdom had been the first he decided to invade. Their Kingdom, not unlike King Eli's, was headed for financial ruin, so Arawn naturally saw them as easy pickings.

"You cannot do this!" George bellowed.

"Oh, I assure you that we can, Your Majesty. This Kingdom now belongs to King Arawn and you and your son will either comply or face the gallows," Frollo stated. George seethed at that. He didn't want to answer to anyone, but he also didn't want to be executed either.

"We will stand with you then, King Arawn," George conceded.

"What?!" James exclaimed, but his father put his hand up to silence his son.

"You'll be silent and do as your told, James," he hissed, much to the chagrin of his boy.

"Yes father," he asked through clenched teeth.

"A wise choice, George. I have heard your son is excellent in combat," Arawn stated, as he looked at him.

"He is Your Majesty. My James would make an excellent General in your conquest," George offered. James couldn't help the stab of betrayal he felt at that. His father, selfish as always. He knew this was a tough place, but offering him up to appease another royal left him feeling bitter. He couldn't help but feel slighted by it. After all, word had it that King Eli was facing execution to save his child, but James knew that George would never throw himself on a sword or go to such lengths to protect him. His father loved him to a point; as much as a man like him was capable of loving. But he had known since a very young age that he was not loved unconditionally. It hurt, but it had hardened him into the warrior he was and now, against his will, he would be going off to fight a war he neither wanted to fight nor believed in.

~*~

Persephone and Hades arrived at the campsite they had heard about in Longbourne. The rumor was that Princess Snow had killed again, according to the propaganda being spread by Arawn's Knights. Claude Frollo, his Royal Vizier had already taken to making speeches to the Northern Kingdom and had painted her daughter as a demon. His fear mongering and hate speech was only working on those of noble birth or those that were easily frightened and lacked brains. The majority of the people, especially the poor and working class loved her daughter, for Snow had never set herself above them. It was not uncommon for her to go into the villages and mingle with them. She remembered many a Saturnalia festivals where she had requested to spend them outside the castle walls and with the people. But unfortunately, the ones supporting Arawn were the people with power and money, leaving everyone else to their mercy.

Once they heard of the incident, they quickly descended upon the scene, only to find several of his soldiers there. The whispers she had garnered from some of the people was that the Woodcutter had been after Snow. He was a notoriously skilled bounty hunter and they had immediately rushed to find the scene.

Persephone hurried toward the prison carriage and instantly wondered if her daughter had been locked in there, scared and alone. But a Knight blocked her path.

"You will let me pass," she said sternly.

"This scene is off limits by order of King Arawn," the Knight stated.

"I do not and will never take orders from your corrupt, power hungry King. Out of my way, soldier or you will be made to move," she warned. But they did not listen and Hades rolled his eyes at their sheer stupidity. When it came to protecting their daughter, they could both be utterly ruthless.

"Because you are so incredibly stupid, I will give you one more chance to step aside," Hades warned, as the other Knights surrounded him.

"Fine...I warned you," Hades said, as his hair and body lit up with blue flames. And though they tried to act as if they did not fear him, they cautiously backed away.

"You're all very lucky that I don't need anymore customers in the Underworld," he growled, as he picked them all up and tossed them away with his light blue magic, rendering them all unconscious.

Persephone walked toward the prison carriage and looked inside it. On the door, she picked up a tiny piece of white fabric and instantly knew that it had been torn from Snow's cloak.

"We can use a locator spell," he suggested.

"If we do...it might lead Arawn to her too," she replied. He winced, knowing she was right. They would have to be very careful. Already, they had learned that his Royal Vizier had an uncanny way of gathering information. Add to that, Deimos had joined Arawn's army and they had Zeus' backing. Soon, he knew the Underworld would be overwhelmed with souls caught in the cross hairs of war and he would be forced to return to deal with the influx of dead.

"Zeus is using our daughter to basically chain me to the Underworld again," he growled.

"And he will not get away with it," Persephone said, as she removed the sheet over the body of the Woodcutter.

"Trampled...at least we know Stardust is doing his job," he commented.

"Normally I do not advocate for harsh punishment...but this one," she hissed, as she imagined the man had found his way to the Underworld by now. A man like this would have had unfinished business, but his soul was one that she wanted no peace for.

"He put his hands on our little girl. He will suffer the fate of my rivers," Hades promised her. Persephone could almost hear Snow's screams and feel how scared she must have been. It could have been so much worse and she broke down in tears at that. Hades swept her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

"I just want our baby back…" she sobbed. He held her and then realized she was focused on something over his shoulder. He noticed she had gone rigid and he followed her line of sight.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a sapling…" she replied, as she put her hand to it and it glowed with green light.

"A true love sapling…" she realized.

"Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded and saw her smile.

"Oh yes...our little Snowdrop is not alone. Athena foresaw this. Snow will find true love that is written in the stars," she recalled.

"Then it has happened…" he said. She nodded.

"And we both know how rare this is. A first meeting without even knowing each other has sparked true love," she said wistfully with hope in her voice.

"You and I both know that with such a true love can come great strife," he feared. She nodded.

"I know...that's why we must find them," she agreed.

"Has...has a meeting like this ever happened before?" he asked, trying to recall. She smiled.

"Only once before and even then, it did not happen until Altair and Vega had already fallen in love. This is unprecedented," she revealed.

"Ah yes...Altair and Vega. They are happy together in Elysian. But we both know it wasn't always good for them. They spent more time apart than together," she reminded.

"Then we will do whatever we can to make sure Snow and her true love don't share that fate. But at least we know she isn't alone," Persephone said. He nodded in agreement.

"She isn't. Stardust isn't the only one that helped her. If she was locked in here, a person would have had to let her out," Hades surmised. Persephone smiled.

"Then I have hope that she is safe and will be safe until we can find her," she replied. Hades took her hand, as she used her magic to carefully uproot the sapling and then it disappeared, as she poofed it to a safe place.

"Let's find our daughter," she said. He smiled and took her hand, as they disappeared.

~*~

Regina shouldered her satchel and hurried back to the stables. It was nearly midnight and she was certain they would be far enough away before anyone realized that they were gone.

"Daniel?" she called. He smiled and came out from saddling up their horses. They ran to each other and shared a kiss.

"Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded eagerly.

"Are you sure about this? You must know that life with a Stable Boy will be a far cry from life as a Princess," he reminded. But she shook her head and caressed his face.

"All I care about is you," Regina insisted.

"Then let's go," Daniel said, as they prepared to depart. But they stopped, as Zelena appeared in the doorway.

"Zelena…" Regina said, swallowing thickly, as she felt a ripple of fear go down her spine.

"So...you're just going to run off without a word?" the redhead questioned.

"Zelena...I…" she started to say, but her older sister cut her off.

"Do you really think mother wouldn't notice that you're leaving the palace in the dead of night?" she asked.

"No...I know she will, but this is the life I want, Zelena and mother will never allow it unless we escape," Regina replied.

"Oh, you are such a little fool…" Zelena hissed, as Regina frowned.

"You are a Princess! You will someday be a Queen when mother finds you the right suitor and you throw that kind of power away for this," she said, looking at Daniel with distaste.

"You may want power, Zelena...but I don't. I want love," Regina protested.

"Love is for children," Zelena replied.

"Well said, my daughter," Cora cooed, as she made her presence known. Regina's eyes flashed with betrayal.

"You told her?!" Regina cried. Zelena smirked evilly.

"Of course I did," she replied, as she got closer to her sister so their faces were only inches apart.

"If I can't escape this life...then neither can you," Zelena hissed bitterly. And Regina knew what she meant by that. Zelena was perfectly willing to sacrifice the possibility to love for power. But it was still a sacrifice. Still a life lived in somewhat of a gilded cage. It was empty and hallow. Power came with a price and that was not lost on Zelena. She realized at that moment that her older sister would never be happy and thus would never allow Regina to be happy if she had any power.

"It's my life, mother. You have one Princess that wants power and is perfectly willing to be married off. But not me," Regina said defiantly.

"Wrong...it's my life, you foolish girl. After what I had to do, the deals I had to make to get us out of poverty...I had to marry myself to a man that would rather be putting his hands on a child than me," Cora snapped.

"Stay strong, Regina," Daniel whispered to her.

"Your magic can't keep us apart. I love him," Regina stated.

"And I love her," Daniel added.

"We love you too, Regina," Cora claimed.

"If you love me, then you won't keep us apart!" Regina cried.

"I'm sorry...but this is my happiness. We're going," she declared.

"So this is your decision? This will make you happy?" Cora questioned.

"It already has," Regina confirmed.

"Then who am I to stop it?" Cora asked. Zelena's mouth was ajar in disbelief.

"Mother…" Zelena growled, but Cora silenced her by putting her hand up, as Regina hugged her.

"Thank you, mother," she said.

"Daniel…" Cora said, as she took him aside.

"If you want to have a life together, a family, then there's one important lesson I can impart on you. It's what it means to be a parent. You always have to do what's best for your children," Cora explained.

"Thank you. I understand. Because that's what you're doing right now," he agreed.

"Yes...it is," Cora declared, as she plunged her hand into his chest and he cried out in pain.

"Mother!" Regina shouted.

"Noooo!" she cried, as Daniel fell to the ground, as her mother clenched his heart, until it was crushed to dust and he took his final breath in Regina's arms.

"Mother...what have you done?!" Regina sobbed.

"This is your happy ending, Regina," Cora promised.

"That doesn't make any sense! You just killed the man I love!" she cried.

"I know, you'll have to trust me, Regina. I know best. Love is weakness...Zelena knows this and now you must learn as well. It feels real now, but it is an illusion. It fades and then you are left with nothing. But power...true power...endures. And then you don't have to rely on anyone to get what you want. I have saved you, my dear," she promised.

"You ruined my life is what you did!" Regina screamed, as she glared daggers at her mother and then her sister.

"Especially you…" Regina growled. But Zelena only smirked evilly, like she was enjoying her sister's pain. At that point, Henry scrambled in and saw the scene.

"Make sure Regina gets back to the castle and is cleaned up. She's filthy from this place," Cora said coldly, as she and Zelena left without another word. Regina remained sobbing, as she held Daniel's lifeless body in her arms. Henry placed his hands on her shoulders, tears of his own slipping down his face. Seeing his child in so much pain hurt him deeply.

"What will I do, Henry? She killed him...I loved him…" Regina sobbed.

"I am so sorry, Regina…" he offered, as he hugged her gently.

"I want them to pay for doing this," she growled, as anger marred her features. And Henry realized there might be a way to make them pay. Normally, he would never advocate revenge...but his daughter deserved it against those two monsters that claimed to love her. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he could face execution for what he was about to tell her. But it did not matter. She deserved to finally know the truth.

"Perhaps there is a way to make them…"

~*~

Deimos dismounted his horse, as he arrived at the sight where the Woodcutter had been killed.

"We have reason to believe that they are headed south, Lord Deimos," one of the soldiers reported.

"Then what are you still doing here?" Deimos growled, frightening all the men as he toppled the prison carriage over with one well placed kick, demonstrating his monstrous strength.

"Si...Sir…" one brave soldier interjected.

"What?" Deimos growled.

"If...if the Princess is headed in the direction we think, we may be able to get ahead of her. There...there is a Troll bridge not far from here that would offer a shortcut," the man offered. Deimos smirked.

"That's good work...you'll lead this mission," he decided.

"But...Lord Deimos, I am the lead on this mission, the General replied.

"Oh I'm sorry," Deimos apologized, as the man's eyes bulged suddenly, as the God wrapped a hand around his neck and snapped it effortlessly, before tossing the body away.

"Now you're the lead," he stated, as he and the soldiers moved out.

~*~

After riding for a couple hours, Snow and David stopped by a stream for another drink for them and the animals, as well as a break. They ate some of the rations his mother had packed for him, while resting.

"So...I told you about my Moms, but you haven't said much about your parents," he mentioned. She smiled.

"I have three, like you and if you know who I am...then you probably know who they are," she replied.

"Yeah...but I'd still like to hear about them from you. I doubt the stories everyone else tells are entirely accurate," he answered. She smirked.

"You mean about my step-father being evil incarnate? Or the one where my father is a weak King that disgraced his legacy by having a bastard daughter with the Queen of the Underworld?" she asked. He gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm not really the type to buy into gossip," he said.

"That's refreshing, because you're one of the only ones," she replied, as she took a breath.

"Daddy is a good man. He seems weak sometimes, because he's in such a difficult position. He never wanted to marry Ravenna...but he did his duty to his Kingdom," she said.

"That must have made him very unhappy," he mentioned. She nodded.

"He was...but he always said I made him happy, despite all that. Then Mama went back to Papa Hades and somehow, he changed and they actually fell in love. She restarted his heart with true love's kiss," she explained.

"That's amazing," he mentioned. She nodded in agreement.

"It is. I hoped someday that Daddy could find love again...but he told me I was enough for him. But now…" she said, as she trailed off sadly.

"Now...he's been imprisoned, because of me," she said, choking back a sob.

"I'm sorry...you must be terribly worried about him," he offered. She nodded and wiped her tears away.

"Maybe I should just turn myself in...maybe they'd let him go then," she said.

"No...that's the last thing you should do. It's the last thing he would want you to do if he's the man you say he is," David protested.

"If there is one thing I know about parents...it's that they're not perfect, but they'll do anything to protect their children," he added, as a twig snapped, keeping their conversation from continuing. They froze and he motioned to her to be quiet, as he silently pulled a dagger from his pack and crept toward the tree where the sound had come from. A Knight, dressed in all black emerged and he prepared to stab at him, but the man caught his arm and they struggled, exchanging punches. Snow was quick to her feet and found her bow, only to be ambushed from behind. She screamed, as he tossed her over his horse and rode off with her. David was stricken with fear, as he saw what had happened. If the soldier got much further, it would all be over for her. With a surge of savage energy, he elbowed the soldier in the face, causing blood to gush down his face and in a move he swore he'd never use, he snapped the man's neck. He didn't like killing, but he had quickly realized that he'd do it if it meant protecting her. With that, he grabbed the bow and an arrow, as Stardust gave chase. He aimed expertly and fired, hitting his mark. The Soldier fell off the horse to his death, while Snow fell too, but was caught by her Unicorn and brought back safely to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as he held her off the animal and to her feet. She stumbled, but he held her up, as they stared at each other with looks of awe.

"I'm...I'm fine...thanks to you," she replied. He sighed in relief, before looking back to see Wilby returning. He whined and nuzzled David's hand.

"I don't think we're going to be able to take that way home," he said.

"It will take longer, but I think we need to take the long way. We can keep going for a while and then we'll make camp for the night," he suggested. She nodded, as they packed up and mounted her Unicorn. This time, David rode in front and Snow was behind him with her arms around him. She leaned against his back, as she still attempted to get her bearings and listened to the thrumming of his heart, which brought her peace. He made her feel safe in a way she had never expected or anticipated and if she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that her heart was beating in sync with his...